One of the brochures at the travel agency back home had said that the music of Brazil would work its way into your very body and soul, and it certainly seemed to be true. Tamara found herself unable to sit still, undulating her shoulders and torso from side to side, occasionally bumping into Roger to see if she could get a reaction out of him, which she never failed to.
The Carnival parade was every bit the spectacle they had been promised when they planned this trip. The two of them were awestruck at the huge and detailed floats that went by, especially the ones with moving parts like the miniature Ferris wheel or the giant dragon with steam rolling out of its snapping mouth. The costumes were stunning, and the dancers were incredible too. Occasionally there was one who could move her rear end in ways they hadn't thought possible, which was a little awkward for the couple to watch. All in all, though, this event was definitely turning out to be the highlight of the trip.
The driving beat of drums was so loud that for the most part, all they could do was point out objects of interest and smile at each other knowingly. Tamara put her mouth close to Roger's ear when she decided that she couldn't wait for a bathroom break any longer.
"I'll be right back. Do you want me to get you something while I'm gone?"
"I'm fine," he yelled back. "Should I go with you?"
"No, you stay here in case I miss anything. Take pictures for me."
She relinquished the Kodak camera in its case she had brought along, then they kissed which was their habit whenever they had to part for even the briefest time. Tamara carefully made her way past the other parade watchers and down the steps of the bleacher stands. She knew exactly where she was going and intended to get back to the fun as quickly as possible.
Unbeknownst to her and to the thousands of others in attendance, a signal was given that was going to disrupt everyone's night.
The line for the ladies' room was long, as usual, so Tamara felt vindicated in her decision to go alone.
Once she stepped back outside into the humid but breezy night air, feeling refreshed and energized, she couldn't help but move rhythmically in time with the music. The non-stop festive environment had given her a natural high, reducing some of her inhibition. Lifting up small handfuls of her party dress in the process, she tried to emulate some of the talented dancers she had seen over the last few days. With crowds like these, no one would notice her, anyway, so she was completely free to dance her way back to Roger's side.
And then the lights went out.
At first Tamara assumed something memorable had happened in the spectacle of sound and color that she was missing out on. However, based on the confused reactions of people nearby, it was soon apparent that this was a malfunction and not a planned part of the festivities.
No one was panicking though, from what she could tell, and the music had not even stopped for a beat. A few emergency lights and some spotlights had come on in the distance, but it was still too dark for her to see much more than the occasional silhouette. People did bump into her, and it was disconcerting to feel the occasional brush of bare skin in the dark, especially after having seen how some of the women's manner of dress left almost nothing to the imagination.
Slowly she felt her way to the nearest structure she could make out, which turned out to be one of the darkened metal lampposts, and decided to camp out there. Knowing Roger, he would probably find a way to come looking for her and would want her to stay where she was.
She was still feeling confident in her choice of actions when a cool hand clamped over her mouth. An arm encircled her from behind, pinning her arms down, and she felt herself being drawn backwards. Her first feeling was a bit of a surprised thrill, plus confusion over how Roger had found her so quickly in the dark. But as she continued to move backwards, it dawned on her that this was not one of his games. No. No! She was being taken!
Panic set in and she began to kick, thrash, and attempt to scream. Nothing changed. It felt like she wasn't even trying, for all her efforts to slow down or even jostle her attacker. Whether she dug in her heels or dragged her feet to make herself heavier, it didn't matter. Mustering all of her strength, she couldn't even free her arms to claw at the attacker.
Further and further she was effortlessly dragged through the dark and shifting crowds, the abductor sure-footed despite everyone else's blindness. Any sound she got out was completely drowned by the deafening music. The brief thought that this might just be a theft passed quickly, as her purse was still bouncing violently against her hip, purposely worn cross-body in order to deter thieves.
There was somewhat more light in the direction they were moving, and she was able to see more of the crowded people around her, though no one seemed to notice the abduction taking place amongst them. Apparently the outage had not had as much of an impact outside the parade route in the plaza. The crowds were much thinner here, so someone had to notice her distress eventually, she convinced herself.
At that moment she saw him, unmistakable, and walking briskly towards her. It was their German friend from the café. He hadn't left town yet, after all; what perfect timing, what a godsend! He would be able to help or at least alert people to what was happening.
Dale was reaching into a pocket as his pace quickened, his briefcase mysteriously absent. Perhaps he had a gun, she thought. It was clear he saw what was happening, and hope blossomed within her.
Her captor suddenly released her long enough to spin her around by the shoulders to face him. The man wasn't terribly tall, only a few inches more so than her, wearing a brightly colored shirt that clashed with his grim, pale face. Her mouth now free, she turned her head and inhaled for the biggest scream of her life. However, before she could accomplish any sound, it was muffled by a damp rag that securely covered her mouth and nose. Overwhelming chemical fumes filled her senses, stinging her throat and nose. Her eyes went wide in confusion and disbelief as she was embraced from behind by someone much taller than her abductor, who had stepped back and was looking past her oddly, expectantly.
She tried to twist away from this new person, who actually swayed and moved in response to her struggles, but their grip remained steady and her muscles were already weakened from fighting off the first attacker. Noting the white hem of a shirt sleeve and the gloved hand that was smothering her, she managed to piece together what had happened. Her hope dissolved, knowing that their supposed friend from earlier had orchestrated this whole thing. She involuntarily thrashed in a final effort to get fresh air into her burning lungs but only managed to collapse downward onto her knees. Dale said something behind her in German, but all she could understand was "one moment," and then she fainted away.
The ushers were telling everyone to stay in their seats until the power came back on, but Roger was uncertain if he should listen to them. He was concerned about Tamara, but all he had for light was a Zippo he'd received at one of the dance clubs with their logo on it. He figured it would not be very useful in helping them to reconnect.
Suddenly, Roger felt a tap on his shoulder and there was a man about his age standing beside him with dusty hair and non-descript clothes. He was wearing one of those lanyards that the tour guides usually had and he had a flashlight.
"She's over this way! Your wife!" the man pointed, shouting to be heard over the cheers of the crowds, which if anything, had only increased while the parade performers shimmied in the darkness. Roger felt relief wash over him and moved closer.
"You know where Tamara is? Is she okay?"
"Yes yes, she sprained the ankle. The doctor is with her now. Follow me!"
Roger obliged, grateful that a sprained ankle was the worst thing that had happened this evening when he had imagined, if but for a moment, something unbearably bad.
Dok had to admit that he liked this car. It was a black BMW 7 series, the company's latest full-size luxury model. Really his only requirement had been that he would need a 4-door, but the niceness of the interior and smoothness of the ride were definitely a bonus and to his liking. So rarely did he get to ride in a vehicle, much less drive one. But this was his mission and he decided to indulge the fancy this time. The Major need not know about his flight of whimsy, or he'd never hear the end of it.
It was slow going what with the throngs of people in the streets headed towards the numerous block parties, but he felt strangely calm and relaxed. Stopping at an intersection, he looked over his shoulder to see how things were in the backseat. Two Millennium soldiers in civilian attire were making faces at each other and laughing, with an unconscious female wedged between them.
"Keep it down. And let me know if she stirs."
"Jawohl."
The third man sitting beside him in the passenger seat was navigating with a folded map. "Left," he said, mirthlessly.
The doctor sighed. As fun as the car was, the company left something to be desired.
There was plenty of time to think, just not a lot of room for Roger to do so, curled up as he was in the trunk of the car. Thankfully the space was devoid of anything to knock into him as the vehicle bounced and swerved through the streets of Rio, and onto who knows where. His captors had done a poor job of securing his handcuffs, so his physical discomfort was limited to merely having his hands behind his back and his long legs bent into the awkward space.
He thought back to his actions at the parade, how he had blindly followed that man, believing Tamara to be somewhere safe. Then suddenly there were two guns pointed at him and a very unfriendly-looking Dale hinting at an unspoken threat towards his wife if he didn't cooperate.
As they cuffed his wrists and emptied his pockets, he saw her drugged form briefly when one of the men opened the car door. The unmistakable pattern of blue and white flowers on her dress sprawled across the back seat was surreal and horrifying. Moments later, he was dragged and forced into the trunk.
"Make any noise and she dies," said one of the Germans before shutting him into darkness. So he stayed quiet, feeling around in the dark at the dimensions of his prison and praying those foul men would not touch her.
Tamara had sensed Dale was up to no good, but he had ignored every sign, so blinded he was by his own selfish desires. Her instincts were usually right; why did he always accuse her of being too emotional? And now their lives were both being threatened because of his stupidity.
He recalled their conversation at the café, how he'd revealed so much about themselves, all the way up to showing Dale his ticket for the parade so he could suggest where to have their cab driver drop them off.
He'd made too many mistakes. He'd been too compliant. There might not be another chance to get out of this but he was going to try. Through sheer willpower and determination, plus the luck of their apparent inexperience with the things, he had managed to get his handcuffed wrists in front of his body.
The car stopped and so did the engine. This was it; it was show time. He felt ready to fight, kill even, if it came down to it. There was some commotion outside, but it was muffled and he couldn't quite hear what was being said. Then he heard Tamara screaming.
That was it, and a swell of anger got the better of him. He began banging on the trunk with his feet, his plan to surprise them and fight all but forgotten.
When it finally opened, a bright light was shone directly in his eyes, which couldn't adjust fast enough. He instinctively covered his face with his hands and yelled in German, "What did you animals do to her?"
Mocking laughter was all that greeted him, then a burst of pain to his temple and the bright light was extinguished, along with all other sensations.
Notes:
Dok exhibits several signs of a predator as documented in "The Gift of Fear," a book by Gavin de Becker. So highly recommended, especially for people who feel at-risk or afraid all the time. It's not a self-defense book; it's about intuition and prevention. You could probably check your local thrift store or discount bookstore if you don't want to pay full price, since it's a bestseller that's been around since 1997.
FYI I'm not being paid to tell you any of this and I won't do any more of these plugs, but as long as I'm writing about this kind of horrible scenario, I just wanted to share something wholesome: namely, the book that has helped me the most in my life to stay safe.