The Calypso Princess

By Rita Durrett

Maria Fuentes, a beautiful med student from the economically depressed island of Cuba, is kidnapped and smuggled to Nassau aboard the Calypso Princess. Fearing for her life, and desperate to protect herself from being ravaged by her captors, Maria takes advantage of the protection offered by one of her guards. She has no way of knowing if the protection he offers is real or just a ploy to have her for himself. She decides to follow her heart.
Kyle Alexander is a teacher, a very good one. He has sought and been offered a summer job teaching English at a school for women in Nassau. When he accepts the job he is told his first assignment will be to board the Calypso Princess and help the crew go pick up cargo. He expects the cargo to be food, books or tools but their shipment turns out to be kidnapped women.
Kyle knows that he is in over his head. What he has done will get him thrown in prison or, at the very least, he will lose the teaching license and career he has worked so hard to achieve. His first inclination at returning to port is to hightail it back to the safety of his quiet Oklahoma life. The rub to that solution is that he has fallen in love with one of the captives. Now he can’t get her out of his mind and finds he is compelled to risk his life to save her.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rita Durrett
• Release date: Jul 31, 2011
• ISBN: 9781466013025

Rita Durrett

Rita Durrett has written four Young Adult and three Women's novels as well as dozens of short stories and novellas. She has published one award-winning Children’s story.Over 40 years in the field of education have given Mrs. Durrett insight and knowledge about teenagers, their inner turmoil, and resilient nature. Her mid-west living and frequent cruise trips to the Caribbean provide the perfect background for suspense, adventure, and romance in her writing.Visit her website at www.ritadurrett.com.

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The Calypso Princess

Rita Durrett

The Calypso Princess

Rita Durrett

@2011 reprint 2013. 2019, 2021 by Rita Durrett

This eBook or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form by any means without prior written permission of the authors, except as provided by the United states of America copyright law.

Also available in paperback publication

Cover/Interior Design: Rita Durrett

https://www.ritadurrett.com

This eBook is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locals, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

This book is dedicated to my friends and family who encourage my efforts and bolster my sagging confidence when the writing gets tough.

CHAPTER 1

Maria woke with a splitting headache. A cloth tied around her head kept her from opening her eyes. The rough texture hurt her face. When she tried to raise a hand to her head, she realized both hands were secured behind her back.

What the heck happened to me?

The growling in her stomach reminded her of her hunger, and that she had been at Juan's grocery store buying her supper. She remembered going outside into the warm, Cuban night air, keys in hand. Someone grabbed hold of her arm and clamped a cloth tightly over her mouth and nose. Blackness had enveloped her world.

As she became more conscious, she realized tape kept her mouth from opening, but she could breathe through her nose. The unpleasant scent of mud, oil and fishing tackle nearly overwhelmed her. She knew she was lying in a moving vehicle, but couldn't figure out exactly where. She wasn't in a seat, but she didn't think she was in a trunk, either. A trunk would have been more restrictive. She could move her legs, which she did, to test that they still worked. As she took this mental inventory, she felt the vehicle lurch to a stop and heard men talking.

I don't recognize those voices. She forced herself to lie still and feign sleep.

The voices sounded loud and in front of her, probably in the front seat. Got the bottle? The cloth? Let's go. She heard doors opening and closing. The men's voices still sounded from nearby. They were muffled, but only slightly, like they were outside the vehicle, but not far away. I've got the feet. You grab the head.

A door right behind Maria opened. Car horns blared nearby, and traffic smells met her nose. She realized the sound of the door sliding on a rail must mean she was in some kind of van. Somebody pushed her roughly across the floor, and another person was dumped in, partially on top of her. It hurt, but Maria clamped her teeth together in an effort to keep quiet. She knew she didn't want her captors to discover she was awake. With her hands tied behind her back, the muscles in her arms cramped. Her wrists stung. Worse, she needed to pee.

The sound of the engine starting meant they were on the road again. No music played. No one talked. Based on the smell of perfume on the person next to her, Maria assumed another female had joined her. The body felt small, so Maria guessed the woman to be young and probably just as scared as she felt. Maria breathed deeply, ignoring the feeling of discomfort in her limbs and bladder and allowed her brain to wander. She had heard of men kidnapping young women and doing indescribable things to them. The thought made her heart race.

Help! She silently screamed. How can this be happening to me?

Her brain buzzed with thoughts of the last few hours. With groceries in her arms, she had been ready to climb into her old '52 Chevrolet. Dents covered nearly every surface. With green paint peeling and metal rusting through in places, it wasn't pretty to look at, but it ran, and that was all that mattered. To have any vehicle in Cuba was a miracle. Her internship at the hospital all the way across town meant she must have a car to get there. Luckily, she had inherited her father's.

The grocer, Juan, was an old family friend. He often helped her out when she had no money and was starving. When her father left for America, Juan could be relied on for advice and conversation. He had been the one to push her toward medical school. He wouldn't let her give up when it seemed impossible to finish. He even offered her a job working in his store to help her get through her internship.

Tears came to Maria's eyes as she realized she had probably seen the last of Juan, her prized Chevy, and her life as a doctor. The van drove on. Finally, she fell asleep despite her anxiety and fear.

Groggily awakening, she became conscious of the sound of a door sliding open. The other person was being removed, and Maria knew she was next. Hands grabbed her arms and roughly drug her out of the vehicle. Her heart beat wildly in her chest. Panic once again swelled up inside her. She wanted to yell, fight, and run. But she didn't. Something gave her the courage to wait, to listen. She willed her breathing to be slow and natural.

Rough hands helped her stand on her feet. Her legs wobbled, and she would have fallen had those unfamiliar hands not steadied her. Her captor pulled her forward, still blindfolded, hands tied, and mouth taped. She could hear the other girl whimpering, like a scared puppy. The sound of confident strides accompanied by shuffling steps reverberated in the night. Dogs barking and an occasional car driving by led her to believe she was in a town. Judging by the smells, moisture on her skin, and a salty breeze she figured they were somewhere near the ocean.

The person dragging her along suddenly stopped. A key turned in a lock. Maria guessed the door to be right in front of her. Someone untied her hands. They roughly yanked the tape from her face. She heard a sharp moan near her. She knew the other person was getting the same treatment. Maria stood shoulder to shoulder with the other person, quivering, and fearful of the next event. Before she had time to think about what might be coming, the cloth over her eyes was snatched away, and she and the other girl were shoved through an opening. The door slammed behind them.

Maria stood perfectly still for several seconds while she took in the sights and sounds of the room. Rough wooden beams held up the low ceiling, like support beams in a basement. Dilapidated, worn-out furniture was strewn haphazardly around the room. One bare bulb hung down from the ceiling. It didn't put out much light in the sea of darkness surrounding it. Either there were no windows, or they had been covered. A putrid smell permeated the whole room. Young women slouched or lay on the furniture. A few stood around the room, alert at the addition of the two new people. No one talked, but a few softly cried or sniffled.

Maria had been trying to ignore the fact that she needed to relieve herself, but the urge was emphatic now. She asked the girl nearest her where to find the bathroom. The girl didn't answer, just pointed a finger to a filthy bed sheet nailed across a beam, acting as a wall. Walking in the direction of the curtain, Maria was leery of what she would find. The stench of urine and fecal material had stricken her nose before she came within ten feet. Had the need not been so urgent, she might have chosen not to pull the sheet aside. The facilities turned out to be a five-gallon bucket, already full. Maria found an area on the floor free of solid waste and made use of it. She relieved herself as quickly as possible and moved back with the others.

The sofas were filled. Women sprawled out sleeping, but Maria moved a woman’s legs out of the way and eased herself down between two of the occupants. She couldn't wrap her mind around all of this. Questions kept popping into her head. How long are we going be here in this squalor? Who is doing this and why? Please, Lord, help me figure out how I am going to get out of here and go home.

Ouch. Maria pushed away the foot that had just kicked her. The owner of the foot was restless and whimpering in her sleep. Maria leaned her head back and tried to collect her thoughts. I need to be calm and rational. I can't let my emotions take over.

Voices outside and the sound of a key turning in the lock roused the sleepers. Everyone tensed, frozen in apprehension. When the door swung open, light from the exterior temporarily blinded the occupants.

Maria expected more women, but instead a couple of men walked in. They were dressed in windbreakers and jeans. They wore hats, pulled down low. Both men carried rifles slung over their shoulders. Their countenances were menacing, and their voices stern. Everybody over in that corner. One of the guys yelled, pointing to the corner near the door.

The girls started moving, keeping wary eyes on the men. Maria had been one of the first to shift to the indicated corner. She wanted out of this trap and on to the next place where her chances of escape might increase. The other girls crowded in around her. Most were dressed in well-worn jeans, sandals and old t-shirts. Maria's blue hospital scrubs made her stand out from all of the rest. That was the last thing she wanted. She tried hiding in the crowd, not wanting to call attention to herself.

A younger girl, probably in her mid-teens, sat up on the couch and started to cry for her mother. Her skinny jeans and over-sized shirt made her look even younger. She gave no indication that she planned to join the others.

One of the captors walked over to her. Get your ass over there! The 'whack' sound of a slap cracked loud and clear throughout the squalid room. Even in the dim light, Maria saw a bright red handprint forming on the girl's face. Cowering away from her tormentor, sobbing, tears streaming down her cheeks, the girl eased her way into the mass of humans bunched together in the corner.

What time are we supposed to meet 'em? The anonymous face looked like death warmed over, like he seldom ate a real meal. He picked at sores on his face. Scars covered his arms, and he was quick to anger, nervous, and jumpy. Maria guessed him to be a drug user by all the signs.

Midnight the other man answered. It'll take us a good two hours to get all of them outa here and on to Matanzas. The second guy appeared to be the one in charge. He kept his cool, watching both the hothead with the gun and the girls.

I think I'll have a better chance with the hothead than with the cool one. I figure the cool guy for more brains. Maria hung back in case an opportunity came up to talk to him. The chance didn't come. They herded the captives in mass to the door and then out, one at a time, in quick succession until all stood outside. A beat- up gray van, with silver patches from missing paint, and bald tires waited by the curb. It couldn't have been more than five feet away. Maria gulped back her panic.

The boss man grabbed each girl by the arm and guided, dragged, and pushed them inside as soon as they came within his reach. He had all ten captives packed inside the van in a matter of minutes. The door slammed, and they began another journey.

Maria remembered she should be hungry but didn't feel any hunger at all. The adrenaline coursing through her veins kept her on edge. What she would do once free of her captors, she didn't know, but she would figure that out when the time came.

The van stopped. Maria could hear engine sounds and an occasional gull cry. The air smelled of diesel, dead fish, and salt. Her heart raced, keeping her from thinking straight. I've got to figure a way out of this. The further away they take us the less chance I have of getting home safely. Maria took a couple of deep breaths. She wanted to be alert to any possibility of escape. Getting on a boat would mean leaving Cuba and possibly never finding her way back. It would mean being at the mercy of her captors.

The van didn't have windows, and it was too dark to make out much through the windshield. Her captors got out of the vehicle, for what, she didn't know. Any voices she heard sounded garbled, too far away, or talking too low to be distinguishable.

The door slid open on the van. Let's go. Climb outa there. The hothead barked orders and practically drug the women out of the vehicle. Move over by Sta....him.

Maria guessed he thought twice or had been cautioned about using the other man's name. The partner gave him a sharp look and started lining everyone up along the dock in front of a boat. It was sleek and new looking, certainly out of the league of these two. They must be working for someone else, just trying to make a buck. Doing what, Maria had yet to figure out.

Ok, girls. The boss stepped from the dock to the boat. You're going to step in like I did and walk through that door. Sit on the benches and keep it quiet. Don't do anything stupid or my friend will shoot you. No second chances.

The captives didn't have any light, other than the moonlight on the harbor, but their eyes adjusted, and they followed, one at a time until all were aboard. Maria hung back in an effort to be one of the last. She still wanted an opportunity to open a conversation or, at the least, for her frightened brain to come up with an escape plan.

The pitiful little band of women followed their captor as he led them down into the cabin of the boat. The rocking of the craft on the harbor waves was ominous. Fear was evident on the women's faces.

Maria's hope of escape faded with the growl of the engine starting up. The pain in the pit of her stomach had little or nothing to do with the lack of food. She watched through a porthole as the boat eased out of the harbor, quickly accelerating until the dock disappeared out of sight. All hope of getting free faded away with the shrinking landscape.

Hothead came through the door and flipped on the lights. The women covered their eyes and lowered their faces to protect against the pain of the beams. He sauntered over to an ice chest and pulled a beer out, popped the top and looked around the room. Let's see what we've got here. His leering smile came through in the tone of voice.

Another kind of fear popped into Maria's brain. She automatically slouched lower in the seat and let her hair cover her face, trying to make herself as inconspicuous as possible. It worked, this time.

Evidently, he was more attracted to petite girls because he walked over to the young girl who had been crying earlier. He took a couple of swigs of his beer and, using his free hand, pulled the victim to him. He belched, laughed at his own crudeness, then plastered his mouth over hers and kissed her. Don't you be pullin' away. He muttered as she turned her face away. He downed the rest of his beer, grabbed hold of her upper arms with both hands, pulled her viciously against him and devoured her mouth, despite her cries and protests. He just laughed and pulled her with him through the door at the back.

Maria tried to ignore the noise coming from the room, praying the trip wouldn't be long enough for her or any more of the women to be entertained in the back.

CHAPTER 2

A white Ford rental car eased its way along ocean drive, its owner unsure of his destination. Headlights illuminated the narrow blacktop as the car wound its way through the curves where a road had been carved out of pricey property. The public roadway had numerous private drives branching off on the land side. Boat docks lined up like boxcars on the ocean side. Each dock had parking places corded off, some with gates that locked and some open for anyone that wanted to use them.

Kyle Alexander was pretty sure the dock he was looking for was in this area because the gentleman on the phone had said, Find the fifth dock after you pass the entry to the waterway. Kyle had just counted the third, now forth dock, and the dock in the headlights had four vehicles parked in