Chapter 2

During my two weeks in Colombia, I occasionally wondered what a hell I was doing there. I did the best I could whenever possible, and the local people seemed happy and sometimes even amused. I knew some Spanish, but I did not reveal that to anyone at the office where I was working. In the beginning I was too shy to use my broken and defective Spanish. Towards the end of the journey I was somewhat amused, myself, when I noticed that I was referred as 'un gringo estupido' - the stupid gringo. I just smiled and played along.

By the time I finished my work at the office, I had everything packed and jumped into the taxi they had there waiting for me. The lazy bastard called a taxi driver did not bother outside to help me with my suitcases so I had to lift them to the trunk by myself. No tips for him. When I opened the back door to get into the taxi, I felt a sting on my neck, something like a bee. Then, gradually, everything went dark. I managed to wonder for a second why someone would abduct me? I had no big money.

By the time Emily fell asleep, I took a seat downstairs. I had a bottle of rum I had brought with me, together with two glasses. I poured some rum into both of the glasses, and savored the smell of the dark liquid while awaiting Hanna. This was the moment I had been waiting for, for more than two years. It was something I had been planning for almost a year. Now, when it was really happening, I didn't really know what to say, or how much I should say. When Hanna came down the stairs and came to the living room, she sat in the chair facing me, not next to me as we used to sit the old days. I smiled a bit sadly when I gave one of the glasses to her. She sniffed at it.

"You should know that I hate this stuff. That has not changed."

"Believe me, you'll need it, tonight. Besides, it's not that bad, and I have no intention of getting either of us drunk."

She did not look convinced but she did taste the stuff with me. After that I took a deep breath and started talking.

"I guess you didn't know that I was abducted at the time I was supposed to to take a taxi to the airport. The locals had it all planned. After they drugged me with an injection dart, I had no real control of my life. That is, not until I managed to get released a bit more than two weeks ago."

She looked like she did not know if she should believe me or not.

"But Carl told me that you found another woman down there, and decided to move in together with her. He even showed me some pictures. I didn't want to believe him, but after those pictures..."

I guess it should not have surprised me that she objected, yet I did feel disappointed. I shook my head, sadly.

"You still don't get it, do you? Carl was behind all this. He sent me down there. He organized my kidnapping. He made sure that there would be some pictures to show you."

"No! No, he is your friend. He was here to support me when you were away. He contacted the authorities who tried to find you!"

Again I shook my head.

"Hanna, I can't really blame you for trusting him. I trusted him, myself, in those days. But there is no, nor there has there ever been, any official report of my kidnapping. Nobody ever made any attempt to release me. If you, yourself, had ever contacted the officials, you would have found it out."

"But how can you know that? Why would he have done that?"

I took the glass away from her shaking hand, and put both of the glasses on the table, next to the bottle. Then I knelt in front of her and took her hands in mine.

"That is an easy question, honey. I know it because he came down there to tell me, personally. He did it because he wanted to have you. He hated me, because of you."

I looked to her eyes while saying that, and I knew that she knew I was telling the truth. She tried to rise and run away, but I held her there. For the second time today she started sobbing while I was holding her. I pulled her to the sofa with me, and held her there.

I had a throbbing headache when I woke up naked on the concrete floor. There was a dim light coming from a small window close to the ceiling, and I could see that there was no furniture, just a solid door and a smelly hole in the floor. Together with the headache, I had some bruises and abrasions, which indicated that the people who had taken my clothes away had not been especially gentle. I considered yelling, but only for a moment. My head felt like it would drop off if I'd even whisper. I managed to think that it might be better not to let my kidnappers know that I was awake. Like that would make some real difference in my current condition.