Two From Mazatlán

By B E Dennis

While the drug cartels expand into abductions, ransoms, and murder the tourist resorts may be the last safe haven. Are they really as safe as advertised? Take a dark trip into the world of human trafficking and international prostitution. Look at the short lives of innocent young women forced into the shadows forgotten by society. Young girls promised eventual freedom that they never again experience. Straight out of today’s headlines and the whispers no one wants to hear. Two From Mazatlán hints at the fate of women forced into human trafficking and the illegal sex trade.

Mazatlán should be the perfect setting for a romantic honeymoon. The magic of the brightly colored markets during the day and the tropical nights in a luxury hotel is the perfect setting. Almost instantly the ultimate honeymoon turns into the ultimate nightmare. In a matter of hours, a new bride's world of festive days and sensual nights in a private hot tub changes to the mental deprivation of an isolation cell. The mental torture, prepares the innocent bride for her new life and frightening future. Abduction by a greedy drug lord thrusts Anne Cromly on a path into the dark world of the foreign sex trade. The local police are controlled by the drug lord and are unwilling to help. Even a ransom payment can't save her from a brutal future ending in eventual execution.

As a last act of desperation and a favor to a friend, Jake Roads steps in to try to save the young bride. Despite a meddling father, Jake formulates a rescue plan to pluck Anne from the clutches of the greedy drug lord. An accidental comment gets back to the drug lord thwarting the rescue plan and putting everyone in imminent danger. With no possible plan and the hostage numbers increasing daily, Jake faces countless obstacles on every step of his planned rescue.

With nothing left to try, Jake must face the drug lord in person to delay the inevitable execution of the young bride and a group of innocent local girls. Jake goads a volatile drug cartel leader into extreme actions leading to a last ditch rescue with only a single chance of success. The only weapon he has left is his own intelligence and quick actions. Jake reverts to luck and a prayer to find a way out when he finds himself and the hostages he needs to rescue between the greed of the drug lord and a hunger school of sharks in the vast Pacific Ocean.

A story that might make you think twice about that luxury vacation south of the border.
Jake Roads reveals a small insight to the real world of covert operation, not the Hollywood version that verges closer to pure fantasy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: B E Dennis
• Release date: Apr 19, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301432370

B E Dennis

B E Dennis weaves fact with fringe and conspiracy theories into plots blended into an action packed stories spanning 15,000 years. Merging the story of Atlantis and the legend of the Ancient Crystal Skulls with the conspiracy of a the New World Order and adding the technology of today, B E Dennis presents works of fiction as plausible the truth. By creating a story outside of normal conventions, fiction can resemble plausible fact. Relying on 35 years of federal government expedience and 15 years of archeological research, CRYSTAL SKULL TRILOGY and JAKE ROADS ADVENTURES present stories of fiction based on fact for plots grounded with the actual technologies in use today. Using personal expertise and experience to explore questions surrounding ancient technologies and current headlines, the action presents plausible answers in the form of fiction stories of adventure. The CRYSTAL SKULL TRILOGY is a work of fiction based on theory and fact to answer historical questions and the legend of ATLANTIS.

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Two From Mazatlán

A Jake Roads Adventure

B E Dennis

Copyright 2013 B E Dennis

Published by B E Dennis at Smashwords

ISBN- 978-1301432370

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Chapter 1

Early on a bright spring morning, a local police van drove through the perimeter gate onto the operations area of a small airport in Durango, Mexico. In the cool morning air, the driver pulled up and parked next to a private jet waiting on the tarmac. The only warmth in the area emanated from the idling twin jet engines. As soon as the van stopped, the rear doors opened and several uniformed police officers stepped out to secure the area around the jet. When they were satisfied that there was no immediate threat or chance of escape, the officers formed a short corridor between the van and the waiting jet. A group of four shackled prisoners were then allowed to exit the van and walk to the jet. The prisoners, female, were dressed in modest clothing. The only outwards sign of their incarceration were the handcuffs and leg shackles restraining each woman. After walking up the short stairs and entering the jet, the aircraft door closed. Completing their assignment, the officers filed back into the van. The van drove away leaving the pilot of the small private jet to continue with his pre-fight checklist.

At the same time the prisoners were being loaded onto the waiting jet, the editing began on a newspaper article. The story would run, buried deep in the next edition of the local newspaper. With neither details nor great fanfare, the story lamented over the deaths of four local girls. The deaths were unrelated except for the method that each woman died. This story contained more details on the method of death and less on the individual girls. The story reported that a ‘rash of jaguar attacks’ claimed the lives of several local residents. The story told of yet another outbreak of jaguar attacks that had plagued the region for the past few years. The story further cited that these vicious cats killed approximately a dozen young women each year. Further, based on the police reports, identification of the unrelated deaths were completed by as little as clothing scraps found at the scene.

The next day, the private jet touched down at the planned final destination. After a short taxi, the jet stopped outside of a private hanger and a waiting cargo van. When the passenger door of the jet opened, the girls inside the jet immediately noticed the temperature. It was not the high mountain warmth of summer that they were accustomed to. This is the dry and penetrating heat of the desert. The air didn’t contain the mild fragrance of the evergreen jungle each girl was accustomed to. The only scent in the air was the dry sterile smell of sand and concrete. They also notice the piercing and relentless sun baking the open door like the intense heat of a well-stoked blast furnace. The girls all realize they were no longer in high mountains of their home region of Mexico.

The girls were escorted from the cool comfort of the jet through the desert heat on the taxiway to the back of the waiting cargo van. The lack of windows in the van added to the furnace like feeling. Sitting in the back of the van felt like stepping into a preheated oven. Even though the van was running with the air conditioning on full, it still didn’t even start to battle the intense temperature of the full sun and desert heat. In the dry heat the girls didn’t sweat, they simple felt as though they were being cooked alive. As they were loaded into the van, the girls heard the strange language of the men working to secure the jet. This cemented their realization of being far from their home. They huddled together, feeling alone and isolated in a distant land.

During the ride in the closed cargo van, the air conditioning started winning the temperature battle against the outside heat. After the short ride, the van parked and the girls were allowed to step outside. The instant the van doors opened, the outside temperature flooded the back cargo area with a renewed intensity. The shade from a tall building shielded them from the direct intensity of the sun but the shade provided almost no relief from the stifling temperatures. The girls were relieved to follow their escort inside. Their time outside was short. Walking through the double doors of the loading dock, each girl was greeted with the cool pleasant air of the building interior. They gladly followed their self-proclaimed rescuer deeper into the lower levels of the building. Their destination was unknown but the air inside was certainly a welcome change to their brief excursion outside. The group continued through a maze of hallways and corridors walking deeper into the lower levels of the massive building.

Walking through the unfamiliar route the girls lost track of time from the uncertainty of their future. After what felt like an eternity, the man leading the small precession stopped and unlocked a door on the left. He stepped through the door with the group of girls following close behind. With the more comfortable conditions, they walked in a relaxed manner. So far, their treatment since leaving Mexico had improved. Despite the unknown world they were thrust into, the girls felt safer than they had since their recent abductions. They continued down a long corridor with a series of closed doors on each side.

The precession stepped into a large and smartly appointed room. Finally, the girls heard the muffled tones of speech. There were words and phrases they all recognized. It was not the strange language they heard at the airport. It was Spanish, their native language. The spacious room filled with other young women sitting in small groups speaking Spanish in the private conversations. These new girls were outsiders and their entrance into the room was ignored by the women already sitting and relaxing. The new girls felt the growing tension and froze in place. They wanted to join with these vaguely familiar conversations. They waited for some sign of acceptance. The new group of girls looked for any familiar face or word. Suddenly one of the new girls saw a vaguely familiar face said, Maria?

One of the older group casually looked at the new group. She looked in the direction of her name. Slowly her expression changed from indifference to recognition. She replied, Angelina, is that you? What are you doing here?

Angelina stepped forward from the rest of the new group of girls. She hesitated as she spoke, Is it really you? You look different. You look so much older than I remember. I didn’t expect to see you. I read that you were killed almost two years ago. Where are we?

Maria responded, As you can see, I wasn’t killed. I was taken prisoner. I was held for ransom. My family didn’t have the money to pay. I had to come here and work off the cost of my ransom. I am almost done. I will be going home soon. Come over and sit. We need to talk. Angelina left the new group and found a spot to sit next to her old acquaintance Maria. Maria continued her explanation, We are in the Middle East. I’ve heard reference to Dubai, though I’m not certain where we are. We aren’t allowed much in the way of details. We live down in the basement until we go to work.

Angelina forgot about the reported death of Maria. She was learning more about her current situation. She asked, What kinds of work are we expected to do to work off our debt?

Maria looked down at her own feet as she answered in a low voice, We are expected to entertain men. We are selected and escorted to their hotel room. We are expected to do whatever the men want.

Angelina looked shocked, Are we expected to have sex with the men? It sounds like prostitution.

One of the other women in the room leaned over and commented, It not only sound like, it is prostitution. If you want to survive, you had better go along with everything that they ask. There have been a few girls that tried to resist, the beatings were brutal.

Maria asked, Do you remember Julia? She returned home just a few months ago. She was from our neighborhood. She was abducted before I was. She worked off her debt and was allowed to go back home.

Angelina replied, I don’t remember any Julia that was abducted. So many girls go missing, it’s impossible to remember them all. We hear reports a few times every year that people are killed in the jungle. That’s the only word we get.

As the small private conversation continued, the interpreter kept whispering in the ear of the man that escorted the group of new girls into the apartment. The man dialed his phone as the interpreter kept feeding him what was being said across the room. The man spoke slightly above a whisper and said, We may have a situation. There is a conversation between one of the new girls and a girl from her same town. They know each other. They are comparing stories. Do I have your permission to deal with this? The older girl has been here for some time and may have repaid all that she owes. The man hung up his phone and whispered something to his interpreter.

The interpreter announced in Spanish, Maria, I have good news for you. Your debt has been paid. Our jet is waiting. If you want, we can fly you home today. If you wait, it could be more than a month until the jet is back. Do you want to go home?

Maria jumped up with excitement and turned to Angelina, I’m finally going home. I will tell your family that you are alive. Stay well and you will soon be going home.

Angelina remembered Julia. She pulled at Maria’s dress to delay her exit. Maria bent down to say goodbye to Angelina. In a low quiet voice, Angelina said. Maria, now I remember Julia. She never returned home. The police said she was killed in the jungle. They said she was killed and eaten by a jaguar. She never returned. Her family never spoke of an abduction or ransom.

The older woman ignored the comments of her newly reunited friend and walked toward the interpreter. She wanted to go home and didn’t delay for fear of missing her chance. Maria turned and waved farewell to Angelina and said, Don’t worry. The end of your work is always in sight. Two years might seem like a long time now. Before you know it, you will be heading back home. Maria followed the interpreter out of the room.

When Maria exited from the basement of the tall building, she was immediately hit by the heat of the late morning. The hot dry air immediately drained her strength. She stepped into the back of the waiting cargo van and looked back at the interpreter. The interpreter hesitated. Finally, she stated in perfect Spanish, I will not be riding with you. Please stay with the driver. He has a few errands to complete on the way to the airport. Don’t worry. The jet will wait for you. Have a pleasant flight. The interpreter then closed the door to the cargo van. Maria was alone in the back of the cargo van. The driver started the engine. The cargo van quickly pulled out of the loading dock and into city traffic. Maria was unfamiliar with the route to the airport and had no idea of the direction the van was travelling.

Slowly the air in the van changed. Between the combination of cooler air from the air conditioning and a change in location, the scent of the air changed. Soon Maria noticed the faint smell of the ocean. It reminded her of several trips she had made from her village out to the coast city of Mazatlán. Her anticipation of going home rose with the barely noticeable but fragrant aroma of salt water.

Soon the van came to a stop and the driver got out. Maria remembered what she had been told. She didn’t want to miss her flight home by getting lost in a strange and foreign city. She intended to stay close to the driver. The rear doors to the van opened and Maria saw the driver waiting in silence. She guessed that he didn’t speak Spanish and she certainly didn’t speak his language. Maria didn’t try to talk. She simply followed the motioning directions of the driver.

Maria thought it strange that she needed to leave the van. They were not at an airport. She looked out at the docks and numerous boats moored in the marina. Looking up, Maria saw an expansive body of water. They parked at a marina. This was not what Maria expected but she followed the driver without question.

The driver walked down the ramp to the rows of boats tied up to the dock. He glanced back to make sure Maria was following close behind. Satisfied, he continued to walk at a brisk pace. He suddenly stopped and motioned Maria to step onto one of the many moored boats. Maria was confused, but she again remembered the instructions from the interpreter to stay with the driver. This must be one of the errands the driver had to complete, or maybe this was a different route to the airport. Maria thought back. She didn’t take a boat when she arrived in this foreign land almost two years ago. It was so long ago. With the prospect of returning to Mexico and her family, the time started to melt away with all of the indignities she had endured over the past two years. She could certainly wait the extra time for the driver to complete an errand. Maria willingly stepped onto the boat. The driver started unfastening the mooring lines. He then stepped onto the boat and made his way to the controls. Soon the driver started the engines, and they were headed out into the vast Persian Gulf.

Maria leaned against the side of the boat and watched the waves lap against the shore. She was vaguely aware of her surroundings. She started to daydream about earlier times of her childhood. She thought about her family, friends, and village. She could barely wait, the time felt as though it was standing still. Lost in a dream, Maria watched the boat clear the harbor and head out into open water.

She continued to think about her trip home. She vaguely remembered the long flight after her abduction. The imprisonment and trip out of Mexico faded into a long lost memory. Under her daydream like state, Maria didn’t notice the boat slowing until the driver shut the engines off. The sudden silence startled Maria. She spun around to find the driver standing behind her. He was looking out into the vast expanse of water. Maria followed suit and looked out. She was trying to see what the driver was looking for. She could see no land or other boats in sight. All she could see was the open water.

With Maria staring out into the Persian Gulf, the driver pulled a small revolver from his belt. He placed it pointblank aiming at the back of Maria’s head and pulled the trigger. Maria never heard the sharp explosive sound as the gun fired. Instantly, her mind exploded with a bright light. It was too quick for Maria to feel the searing pain as the small caliber bullet ripper through her brain, then the deep darkness of death. The impact threw Maria’s lifeless head and torso crashing hard against the side railing of the boat. The bullet crashed through Maria’s skull exploding out the top of her face. Bone fragments, blood, and tissue rained over the water next to the boat. Small fishes gathered and caused the water to boil as they fed on the remains.

The driver reached under the seat where Maria’s body lay sprawled against the side railing. He pulled out a small bucket and the end of a chain. He set the bucket on the deck and pulled on the chain. Attached to the other end of the chain was a concrete block. The driver wrapped the chain several times around the lifeless body, pulled the chain tight, and fastened it with a cheap lock. He then lifted the body over the railing and dumped it into the water. As the body floated on the surface, the driver picked up the concrete block and pitched it over the side. He watched as the weight of the concrete block pulled Maria’s dead body into the depths of the Persian Gulf. He then dipped the bucket into the gulf water to rinse the side of the boat clean of the telltale bloodstains.

At a depth of one hundred feet, the seascape was surreal. The small fishes schooled to feed on the newly formed reef. The reef was a combination of newly formed corals attached to concrete blocks and rusted metal chains. Strewn about the reef was a collection of thousands of human bones. Skeletal remains marking the area as a dumping ground over the past several years formed another base for the new coral to attach and grow. With time, the bones would be absorbed into the reef structure obliterating all evidence. Hitting an exact bull’s eye, the concrete block pulling Maria’s remains to the depths striking the center of the artificial reef.

The small reef fish schooled around the new intruder. They swam through the blood stained water feeding on the scraps and tissue floating from the lifeless body. The blood in the water soon attracted larger marine predators. Soon a feeding frenzy ensued. Over the days that followed, the creatures of the depths would systematically scour the body of all identifiable tissue leaving only the skeletal remains of a once lovely young woman.

*****

Several months later and half a world away, the city of La Ciudad prepared for yet another newspaper article. The town would again mount a hunt to eradicate the local jaguar population. Even without human involvement, the numbers of the big cats dwindled. The pressure of a growing population was destroying their natural habitat. The hunt had gone on several times in the past and never yielded a single kill. Events were unfolding for another loss to the small inland community.

Six young women huddled together in the corner of a dimly lit room. The room measured about ten feet by ten feet with only a single door. There was no furniture except for a pair of thin mattresses haphazardly strewn on the floor. The room had no windows to change the view of the stark concrete walls and floor. The only light in the room was a single bulb hanging from the exposed wood joint ceiling. The young women, ages ranging from seventeen to twenty-four, huddled together in fear and for protection of the unknown. They crowded together sharing what little body heat each had. It was the only protection for the bare skin of their naked bodies. They waited in silence and listened for any sound to signal the approach of their captors. Without windows, the frightened women lost all concept of time. They were unaware of day or night. Without reference, time passed at an agonizingly slow pace. The heavy air in the room didn’t vary in temperature to give any indicate of the passage from day to night. The air was stagnant with the dusty smell of the concrete walls and floor.

At first, the women tried screaming for help. Without any answer to their cries for help, they soon gave up. They had lost all track of the time of their imprisonment. It must be somewhere between days or weeks. They had no idea of the passage of time.

Faint sounds grew in intensity. The women held their collective breath hoping that the sounds of footsteps would pass. They craved any outside interaction at the same time fearing the possibility of abuse by their captors. The sound of footsteps suddenly stopped, the small group of women clung to each other for a little added protection. They heard the faint sound of metal sliding against metal. The bolt locking the door to the small room slid open. The low screech of the rusty door hinges slowly yielding to the force of the door opening immediately followed the sound of the bolt opening. With each metallic creak of the hinges, the group of young women clung into a tighter huddled mass. As the door opened, a sliver of light from the outer hall grew to flood the stark room with extra illumination. The shadows cast by the armed guards interrupted the new light from the hall.

Three men armed with AK-47 assault rifles entered the small room to confront the group of young women. Two of the guards took their positions on either side of the opened door. The third guard ordered the women to stand and move in their native tongue of Spanish Levantarse, mudar. To make sure the women understood, the guard motioned with the barrel of his rifle.

Frightened by the sudden command, the women moved into a tighter group shielding themselves from the stare of the guards. After a moment, the women comprehended the command and realized they had no choice. As they covered themselves the best they could, the women walked out of the room and down a well-lit hallway. As they walked, the women kept in a tight group crowding together to shield their unclothed bodies from the gaze of the guards. The women tried to gain any little added modesty. As they walked down the hall in silence.

Leading the way, the guards directed the group of women prisoners to turn right and walked down the hall. After a short distance, the guards motioned the women left into another room. Not knowing what to expect, the women followed the directions of the armed guards out of fear for their personal safety. The group of guards and women entered a stark and brightly lit room. The floor, walls, and ceiling of the room was covered with white tile. The room was devoid of any furnishings except for a single table at the far end. One wall of the room was fitted with showerheads. The guards motioned the group of women to move along the wall fitted with the showerheads. The women followed the directions and stood facing the wall to better shield their exposed bodies from the view of the guards.

As the last woman walked into the tiled room and past the guards, she suddenly jerked away as a guard grabbed her arm. The contact startled her and she tried to pull away. Immediately she moved her arms to try to shield her body from the gaze of the guard. The guard unexpectedly clutched her arm with his left hand and reached for her unprotected breast with his right hand. The young woman froze in astonishment at the overt move and the added action just behind the unsuspecting guard.

With a look of lust in his eyes, the guard reached for the young woman. At that same instant, the butt of an assault rifle struck the guard on the side of his head just above his ear. The startled guard released his grasp and crumpled on the tiled floor as the young woman looked at one of the other guards standing over her would-be attacker. She quickly moved to the wall to join the other women.

Looking up from the tiled floor directly into the barrel of an AK-47 assault rifle, the once proud guard took a sheepish demeanor. At the other end of the rifle was the guard that everyone in the room now assumed to be the guard in-charge. At that instant, the only sound in the room was the barely audible click as the guard in-charge flipped a small lever on his rifle taking the gun ‘off-safety’ and ready to fire. The guard in-charge directed his fellow guard laying flat on the floor to leave the room. The guard in-charge didn’t speak a word but simple flipped his head to the side to make clear his instructions.

From his position on the floor, the wounded guard knew he was out of line. It was crystal clear that the young women were not there for his personal pleasure. They were not to be harmed or even touch in any improper manner. He also understood that any objections on his part could mean the end of his lowly life. With a steady stream of blood flowing from the recent cut above his ear, the wounded guard started to crawl towards the entrance door of the tile covered room. As he reached the door, he exited into the hallway and disappeared from sight.

The other guard and the women in the room all saw the interaction. If there was any doubt, everyone now knew the rules of conduct. At least for the time being, the women felt an added level of personal safety for their immediate future. The guard in-charge motioned the other guard to join him next to the entrance door. As the second guard joined the lead guard at the door, the lead guard shifted slightly and reached out for a control knob with his right hand. The showers instantly came to life filling the wall where the group of women stood with a gentle stream of warm water. As the women stood under the warm water, the guards turned their backs to the women and started their own quiet and private conversation.

After the recent incident, all of the women carefully watched the two remaining guards. When the guards turned their backs to the group, the women felt even more