After the Woods
Chapter 6
Castle struggled to make his large fingers as nimble as those of the women working beside him. For every gain he made on his quota, they would have more sleep, more adequate food. For several days he seemed to have been making progress, but today he felt as if he were moving through molasses. It seemed even hotter. Sweat dripped into his eyes, but he hesitated to lift a hand even to wipe it away, terrified of the penalty for lost seconds. A headache raged behind his eyes, made worse every time he shifted them. His knees and elbows screamed, even above the level to which he had become accustomed. He swayed on his feet, desperately attempting to maintain his pace. When the respite of the short meal time came, he was unable to summon the energy or the will to move from his station, sinking to the floor to rest.
As if in the distance, Castle could hear two black shirts talking above him. "What do you think is wrong with him?"
"He's got a rash, and looks like a fever."
"God damn Dengue. We better tell Joshua."
Castle opened his eyes to Joshua's twisted smile and the feel of an actual bed beneath him. "I guess we gave you the wrong shots," Joshua taunted. "You're where the mosquitoes can't spread your disease to the other workers. But don't worry, we've upped their quotas to make up for your absence. You won't have to catch up when you get back. Just lie there and think of all those dear ladies working so hard because of you."
Castle struggled to get a response past his dry lips. "You're a monster!"
Joshua laughed. "Most gods are."
Despite the fever and the almost intolerable pain in his joints, Castle was determined to absorb as much information as he could from the black shirts who seemed to enjoy observing his suffering. Desperate to overhear their conversations, he feigned sleep as much as he could when they came to watch him and gloat. His efforts paid off. He learned that he was in the Marianas Islands where factories escaping all labor laws could still stamp their products made in the U.S.. The black shirts laughed about how hard Joshua had to work to master the local language, Chamorro. It also amused them that Joshua had stashed Castle's satchel with his wedding tuxedo and watch in a closet in the room where Castle lay apparently oblivious. Castle learned that despite his delusions of godhood, Joshua was part of a larger organization, producing not only cheap knock off electronics but clothing. The black shirts also referred to "the cartel," from which Castle speculated that drug money was somehow involved. The otherwise fearless Joshua was fearful of the consequences if he failed in his commitment to the nebulous upper management. That fear was something Castle prayed he could use.
As the pain receded, Castle was able to move around, sneaking out of his room to get the layout of the quarters occupied by Joshua and the black shirts and slowly putting together an escape plan. He also retrieved his satchel from the closet and stashed it in an outer corner of a porch where he could grab it if he ever got the opportunity. Joshua maintained a boat for trips to neighboring islands. It was scarcely guarded, especially at night when the workers were locked in their quarters. Castle knew from his training from Powell that with the use of fine assembly tools he could pick the lock, but he needed some way to assure that Joshua or the organization behind him wouldn't come after him, or worse, his family or Kate. For that he needed to steal a phone from one of the blackshirts.
Though still weak, Castle was glad to be returned to his duties. Not only did it take the pressure off the women, it would give him a chance to put his plan into effect. The tools were sadly easy to obtain. The woman at the work station next to his was gone. He shuddered to think of the reason, but was able to palm what he needed when finally allowed to return to his quarters for the night. He hid them in a crack in the floor.
The phone posed more of a problem, but Castle found his chance two days later. A black shirt stood over the last woman dismissed for the night, making lewd suggestions. He spoke English rather than Chamorro, but his suggestive motions made his meaning more than clear. As he leaned over her, his phone and a wad of cash poked out of his pocket and Castle grabbed both, snapped quick pictures of the factory, and hid his booty under his clothes.
Using the clock on the stolen phone, Castle waited until three A.M. to put his plan into effect. He retrieved his tools and carefully picked his way over the women on the floor around him to the door. Concentrating to remember all that Powell had taught, the dim glow of the phone provided just enough illumination to accomplish his goal. The door was unlocked.
Giving silent thanks that there were no clouds, Castle used the light from the moon and stars to find his way to where the boat was moored, stopping briefly on the way to retrieve his hidden satchel. Unfortunately, just as Castle breathed a sigh of relief that he had executed his plan undetected, the noise of the starter of the engine of Castle's boat brought a black shirt, Glock in hand. The black shirt fired as Castle cast off, but Castle headed out to sea. When he was out of gunfire range, Castle swiped the Joshua icon on the phone.
The hiss of the familiar voice responded after several rings. "This better be important for you to wake me Nolan!"
"This isn't Nolan," Castle told him. "This is Castle and I'm in your boat headed away from your little fiefdom. Know this Joshua. I know about your operation, I have evidence, and I know what will happen to you if you make the cartel unhappy. So I'm going to make a deal with you. That information will be in a safe place and never released unless you take action against me or anyone I care about. I'm not doing this for you but for them, they never need to know of the horror you've built here. It's in both our interests to forget this happened. Do we understand each other?"
The seconds passed and Castle heard nothing but rough breathing. Finally, almost inaudibly, Joshua's voice came, "We have an understanding." It was only then that Castle felt the burn across his ribs and the stickiness of the blood seeping into his shirt.