For Whom the Bell Tolls

That was the exact same look that Jordan saw in the eyes of his passenger. Somebody had reached inside of her and pulled out her humanity.

They had reduced her to a victim without any vestige of will. She was unable to reason, only react. And her present state was nothing but abiding fear.

Jordan had led his life centered on a credo of detachment. And he was definitely no Good Samaritan. But his passenger's vulnerability – her fear and defenselessness spoke to him in ways that he had never felt before.

He wanted to protect her.

Yet, in her present state she created a major problem. He was driving through the Mexican countryside with an unknown woman who had obviously been abused in unimaginable ways.

Jordan didn't need to be psychic to figure out that she had reached his location by coming up the path from the compound. So he probably had the additional complication of helping somebody who had just escaped the Cartel.

That raised a number of other disturbing issues, some of which impacted his mission.

He looked at her huddled in the corner of the van. And he made a decision.

What he said next was so uncharacteristic of Bobby Lee Jordan that he almost couldn't believe that it was his voice.

He said, "Look – I want to help you but you are going to have to trust me. I want to get you to a safe place where you can rest and recover. But I can't do that if you don't start acting a little bit normal."

Her eyes changed. It was like the owner had come back after a trip and turned on a light.

Jordan added, "I am going to take you back to my hotel where you can clean up and get some sleep. You will be safe there. I will not hurt you, or even touch you. But you are going to have to act like you are with me when we walk through the lobby."

She looked frightened, but there was also something else there. It was like she had finally gained some hope.

Jordan glanced at her dress, which looked like she had been butchering cattle in it.

There was no way that the police WOULDN'T be called if anybody saw her in that. He said, "We have to get rid of that dress. I have some things in the back of the van that you can change into. It is just sweat pants and a sweatshirt. You can get out of your dress and put them on back there."

She nodded acknowledgement. Her huge amber eyes were wide with anxiety. There was also something else.

Jordan pulled over to the side of the road, engine still running – got out and went around the van to open the doors in the back. Buster was standing at the door with a concerned look on his face, "Why'd we stop Boss?

Jordan said, "You need to get out for a second old buddy. The lady has to change."

Buster obediently stepped down and stood next to Jordan - pant-pant-slobber-slobber. Jordan closed the door and said. "It's okay. You can change now."

He heard the sound of banging around in the van and then a meek knock on the door. He said, "I'll meet you up front." Then he opened the back doors and Buster hopped back in – drool-drool-pant-pant.

She was crammed in her corner again but at least she looked less like a refugee from a serious train wreck. Her absolutely gorgeous eyes had gotten some life back in them and she was looking at Jordan inquisitively.

Jordan was surprised by how well his sweatshirt fit her. He expected it to be baggy but it was apparent that things of monstrous proportions were moving around inside it. With her dirty dress off and clad in sweats she looked like the sexiest soccer mom on the block.

They drove into the city and Jordan parked the van in the reserved space he had rented. He got Buster some water and they walked around for a minute while the dog did his business.

Then Jordan said, "Back inside old buddy - you're in charge now."

And Buster hopped back in the van to continue his lonely vigil. That was always the way it was on these assignments.

They walked out of the parking lot and into the light and for the first time Jordan actually saw the outline of her body.

She was tall for a woman, perhaps five-ten. He was six four so his sweats were still bunched around her ankles.

But the rest fit snuggly up to her waist and he saw with wonder that she had absolutely the most incredible legs and ass he had ever seen on a woman. Big, full and round hips. But at the same time it was obvious that there wasn't an ounce of fat on them. Her legs were exceptionally long which accounted for her height. Still they were supple and well-muscled.

But it was the size of her tits that made him almost stop and gawk. She was obviously not wearing a bra because her unbound breasts were swaying back and forth as she walked. It made the front of her sweatshirt look like two pigs were wrestling under a blanket.

He had already noticed that her face was perfectly proportioned and fashion model beautiful but he had no idea that she had such an unbelievable body.

She turned and looked back at him questioningly. She was clearly wondering what to do next. But there was also something in her eyes that told him that she understood why he had been lagging behind.

He said, "I am going to take your arm and we are going to walk through the lobby like you and I are just going up to my room. I'm sorry that I have to touch you but we have to seem familiar. We cannot draw attention."

She nodded with understanding and allowed Jordan to take her arm. And they strolled slowly through the lobby to the elevators broadcasting the message that they didn't have a care in the world.

Jordan was impressed by the fact that the woman was beginning to recover some sense of self. Even though he could feel her quivering with fright as she held his arm. He thought, "She must be one tough cookie."

He opened the door to his room and they stepped inside. He knew that this was going to be a delicate moment. She had obviously escaped from a Mexican Cartel. And it was likely that they had not been playing Scrabble with her while she was in captivity.

So he had to make their transition to the intimacy of the room as comforting as possible – without any sexual overtones.

Jordan thought that he would address that elephant in the room directly. He said, "I know that whatever happened to you must have been awful but I want to help you, not hurt you."

Then he paused, looked at her with meaning and said, "Nevertheless, whoever you just escaped from is probably looking for you right now. So you need to stay hidden until you recover enough that we can decide what to do next."

She nodded in acknowledgement. It looked like her reasoning was coming back on line fast. It gave the impression that there was a very strong minded individual in there somewhere.

Jordan said, "Let me suggest that you take a nice long bath and then try to get a good night's rest. I am going to sleep in the van tonight so you will have all the privacy you need."

He added, "You'll be safe here. So please try to rest and recover. I will be back in the morning and we can get some clothes for you. Then we can try to figure out our next step. Are you hungry?"

She said "Yes" - in a voice that was beginning to sound normal.

Room service was knocking on the door fifteen minutes later with a big steaming bowl of chicken soup, some bread and a selection of cheeses. His newfound responsibility was hiding in the bathroom while he signed the bill.

There were two big bottles of cold water and a beer. The beer was for Jordan. He had been through a lot of tight places in his military life but this felt like the most difficult one yet. And he wanted a drink.

The last thing he needed was a damsel in distress, given the reason why he was there in the first place. His life-long policy had been to avoid that kind of complication.

But you would have to be one hard-hearted son-of-a-bitch to stumble on this woman's situation and not offer help.

She fell on the food like she hadn't eaten in days. Perhaps she hadn't? Jordan drank his beer.

He said, "You're American right? So we have to get you out of here and back to the States as fast as we can. We can talk about that in the morning. I am going to leave you alone now. But I will be back at 8:00."

She looked like she was going to beg him to stay. She was still very frightened. But Jordan could see her thinking through what he had suggested and arriving at the conclusion that it was the best course of action.

Her smoky amber eyes had a glimmer of rationality and resolve back in them.

She said, "Yes – and thank you – I know I am safe here and I will be much more coherent once I get a night's sleep. I'm stronger than this."

Jordan sensed the inner courage of the woman.

Jordan took the elevator back down to the lobby bar. He had NOT lost sight of the fact that he was in Mexico City to prevent nuclear holocaust.

The woman was an extreme complication in the execution of that strategy. But he was going to stay on task.

Jordan needed to talk to Pablo and Pilar, just to get back on-plan. He dialed Pilar – she was the brains of the operation – and said, "Are you back yet?" There was a raucous party going on in the background.

She said, "No – we are going to stay here tonight. We are really getting down with the bloods and I want to do a little something special with whoever's interested. We'll call you when we get back tomorrow morning."

Pilar was telling Jordan that she was still following the script.

Jordan finished his beer and walked out to the truck. He banged lightly on the door and said, "It's me old buddy."

He opened the door and Buster was standing there looking puzzled. Jordan said, "I'm bunking with you tonight."

Buster just turned around, walked back to his bed and plopped back down – pant-pant-pant.

Jordan unrolled his sleeping bag between Buster and the truck's monitoring console. Thanks to his years in the Army he was probably more comfortable sleeping that way anyhow.

As he drifted off to sleep he thought to himself, "I really need to give this guy a bath."

He awoke at 06:30. Buster was still snoring. Jordan wanted to see how his little Bluebugs were doing. He had activated them when he dropped them on the target phones so they had been recording all night.

There were four files sitting on his computer. One phone hadn't been used but one in particular had been very active. All but the dead phone's files were full of intercepts. The problem was that they were in colloquial Spanish and he didn't understand a word.

He encrypted what he had. And then he sent them to Golz on a VPN tunnel. He attached a sit-rep and requested translation ASAP.

He didn't expect anything that early but you can never tell. He had a sense that he had been on target with his Bluesniping. That was just an instinct that he had gained from long experience.

He took Buster out for his morning constitutional and then locked him back in the van. Then he walked back to the elevators and proceeded up to his room. He knocked lightly. There was no answer so he entered the room.

She was sleeping on her back like she was dead. She was lying naked under a light sheet.

He was really trying to be noble. But no man could withstand the opportunity to leer at that incredible body. The outlines of her voluptuous figure were impossible to miss. Her beautiful face with its wealth of auburn hair was peaceful and relaxed – even though her nipples were standing out like two little watchtowers on the massive hills of her breasts.

He withdrew silently and went back down to the lobby. As he did so her eyes opened for a second and a smile of satisfaction and contentment appeared. She stretched luxuriously and went back to sleep.

The shops were open and Jordan needed something for his new charge to wear. He figured she would want to pick out her own things. But if she was dressed in his baggy sweat suit she would draw unwanted attention.

There was a trendy looking boutique down the street and he stopped in there. The friendly sales lady advised him about sizes as he bought a simple skirt and sweater along with a couple of different sandals in her approximate size.

It had only been the baggy effect of his sweatpants that prevented anybody from noticing she was barefooted as she crossed the lobby.

He also bought yoga pants that the woman said would fit anybody in her ballpark size and a chic looking t-shirt. He made sure it was big enough to accommodate the monsters she was carrying on her chest.

He also bought some panties and tried to get a couple of bras that might fit her. He had no idea how to communicate the requisite size. But by holding his two cupped hands in front of him in that age-old gesture the sales girl got the idea.

He took his bags full of new clothes down to the hotel café and got two coffees and a box of croissants and breakfast rolls and headed back to the room.

She was awake and sitting in the room chair wrapped in a hotel robe.

He came in the door very gingerly. He didn't want to appear too forceful or upsetting. The last thing he needed to have happen was for her to go into hysterics in a quasi-public place.

She smiled at him instead and said in a smoky contralto voice, "Don't worry. I'm back to acting semi-normal."

Then she frowned ruefully and added, "As normal as I'll ever be now."

She had obviously just come from the shower and she looked much calmer than she had last night.

Her auburn hair was wrapped in another towel and those incredible amber cat eyes of hers were regarding him like she was assessing him.

Jordan said, "I brought some coffee and rolls. I didn't know when you would be up and if you would be able to eat something. I also bought you a few things to wear. I buried your dress at the bottom of a dumpster. It looks like you were committing bloody murder in it."

Her eyes instantly clouded. Jordan thought, "Oh shit!! She was!!"

The woman took the proffered coffee and selected a roll. Then she examined the bags. She picked them up, disappeared in the bathroom and emerged 15 minutes later with her hair dry and wearing the t-shirt over the yoga pants. Her feet were in the sandals with a little heel. There was no makeup. She was absolutely stunning.

Jordan almost spilled his coffee as she emerged from the bathroom. She did a model's spin and said, "You like?"

That was the dumbest inquiry ever made by a woman. This amazing creature was a goddess.

Jordan just stared in wonder.

At that point there was a rap on the door and a rough male voice said, "Open up pendejo!!" The woman shrieked and ran back in the bathroom, locking the door.

There was the sound of raucous laughter outside. A teasing voice said, "Gringo has a puta."

Jordan opened the door and Pablo and Pilar pushed past him. They took one look at the rolls and grabbed all of them.

Pablo said with a lecherous grin, where's the coffee and the hooker?"

Jordan gazed at him levelly and said, "She is in the bathroom and probably won't come out. So listen to me when I say this. When she does come out you will treat her with respect. She is with me and you should consider her to be my woman. If you can't do that I will make a call to Golz and you are going to learn what the words "rendition" and "torture" really mean. Do you understand me??"

Pilar hit Pablo on the chest and said, "Be respectful panocha or you are going to have to deal with me too!!"

Pablo made a conciliatory gesture and sat back in the chair.

Jordan knocked on the door. He said, "Let me in Mary." This was the first time he had used her name.

In the bathroom, the woman had been listening to the conversation. What she heard was a strong man quietly establishing dominance over a weak one.

This man was different than the rest. And in that respect, she felt something she had never felt before. She was starting to think about him in oddly connected ways.

She unlocked the door and Jordan carefully eased it open - far enough so that she could just see him. He said, "I know that you are frightened and this is a lot to ask. But can you come out please. These people work with me and they can help you get to wherever you need to go."

She came cautiously into the bedroom and stood in front of Jordan - with him hovering directly behind her like he was her guardian angel. She looked frightened and uncertain.

Both Pablo and Pilar reacted with total astonishment. They had expected a barrio skank. What they saw was a woman who was perfectly stunning – tall, beautiful and with an absolutely outrageous body.

She walked over and sat silently at the end of the unmade bed – knees together - hands on legs. She didn't look at either of them.

Pablo was gazing at her gorgeous legs and huge tits. The look on his face was not something that Jordan liked. Jordan said, "Remember that phone call Pablo. You would really hate what would happen next."

Pilar looked flabbergasted. She said, "Where did you find this Angelico Robert? She is not a puta."

Jordan said, "I found her up on the mountain behind the compound. I think she came from there. She needs our help and I plan to give it to her."

Pilar was a very hard woman indeed. The cruelty of her short life had made her that way. She had done or seen every vicious, and immoral thing imaginable. But there was an innate kindness at her core. It made her instantly sympatico and protective of their new guest.

She rose, walked to the woman's side, sat next to her and took her hand. The woman looked terrified. But beyond that she did not react.

Jordan's gentle and calm yet powerful presence comforted her. Pilar said, "Don't worry querido. We will protect you."

The woman turned and acknowledged that statement with her eyes.

Pablo said with some bluster, "This woman came from the compound last night?" Jordan nodded in confirmation.

Pablo said, "She must be the puta who killed El Sordo. We will make a fortune if we give her back to the Jaliscos."

Before Jordan could even react Pilar had darted across the space between the bed and Pablo.

The open handed slap literally sounded like a pistol shot. And Pablo's head rocked back like he had been shot.

The threat in Pilar's voice was unmistakable as she said, "You know what they would do to her Cabron. You keep your mouth shut unless you want a knife between your ribs."

––––––––-

The woman had recoiled in horror at Pablo's statement.

She had been her normal self a mere 100 hours earlier. She was sitting comfortably in the hotel bar sipping a latte and reading the Wall Street Journal when she began to feel woozy.

Then she felt the arms of a foul smelling person grab her.

When she came back to consciousness she was lying on a filthy bed in a small room with a weak unshaded bulb the only source of light.

There were no windows. She couldn't tell whether it was night, or day.

She knew that kidnapping American tourists wasn't unheard of south of the border. But it never occurred to her that something so dreadful would happen to her.

She was an important and powerful woman - a Senior Partner in a big American accounting firm – rich, admired and an object of lust for any man she met. With all of those gifts it was hard to believe that anything bad could EVER happen to her. She shivered with fright.

Then a door opened and an evil looking man entered. He was a classic gangster type with the slicked back hair, hard face and thick Indio body of a central casting drug lord.

He stood over her and leered. He said in heavily accented English, "It's time to have some fun my little flor"

She suddenly felt very self-conscious. She started to scramble backward on the bed. But the man's arm lashed out like a striking snake and grabbed the scooped front of her dress.

She fought back with swings and kicks. But all that commotion did was rip her dress and bra off as she tried to twist away.