Chapter Three: Escape From Botswana

As I slowly came to, the sun seared my forehead and large drops of sweat rolled down my checks and into my eyes. I looked at the feet and legs in front of my face. Two sets of shiny black knee-high boots topped with olive green slacks. The tall thin man was sitting on a camp chair now, leaning over so his arms were resting on his knees. His long fingers were elegant and well-manicured. "Mrs. Nixon" He said in clipped British tones, "Why were you filming the technology titles in the Saint Petersburg public library?" I had to stop and think. The drugs they had given me still made me groggy. I needed to stall for time so I could clear my head, "I had finished at the ISLA convention and thought it would be fun to use this trick camera I bought at a San Francisco novelty shop." His whip lashed my face and I felt blood trickling down my neck. The pain was intense. My eyes widened at the riding crop in his hand. "Wrong answer!" He yelled in my face. "Borris, give her the injection." He narrowed his dark blue eyes and leaned over inches from my face. "Mrs. Nixon, we have ways to make you talk." The short, stocky man next to him raised a needle filled with an amber liquid and snatched my wrist with surprising strength. He roughly pushed up my sleeve and jabbed the needle into the crook of my arm. Oh God, not sodium pentothal. My cover would be blown for sure. "Mrs. Nixon, where were you born?" I looked at him as he became fuzzy and out of focus. "Seattle General Hospital, November 10th 1956." His wide, thin smile reminded me of a crocodile waiting for lunch. "Name your president please." I felt better now and had the sensation of floating. "Doctor Seuss." I said. The whip cracked at my shoulder but I didn't feel pain now. "This is no joke Mrs. Nixon!" He screamed in my face! "Who do you work for?!" I told him the truth. "I work for Lucky Santangelo out of Las Vegas, and my partner is Kinsey Millhone." The drugs had me confused and I began babbling, "The snakes of Botswana have three types of venom, cytotoxic, neurotoxic and hemotoxic." The secretary of state is Norman Neumar." "Boris! Let me see that needle!" He grabbed the empty needle and his eyes widened with disgust. "You fool! You filled the horse inoculation needle! She has four times the amount of truth serum needed and is making no sense!" He stood abruptly making lovely shade and then stalked off to the house, his stomping feet creating mini-dust storms. He shouted over his shoulder, "You have until midnight to tell us the truth. After that, the cages are opened and the nets below the Bootslangs are cut!" "Ludmilla, the minute the sun goes down we need to get out of here." I whispered. Her fingers tapped mine lightly from the other side of the tree. "Yes, we need to go!" She said. As the truth serum decreased, my discomfort increased. my old aching bones were protesting and large flies walked the dried blood on my cheek and shoulder. Finally, the sun lowered in the sky and twilight arrived. That gave us about four hours until our friends returned and we became snake chow. "Ludmilla" I whispered, "reach your wrists towards mine so I can cut your ropes." I felt her hands over mine and I said softly, "The edges of my cuff buttons are razor blades, rub your ropes over them." She was fast and next thing I knew she was untying me. I jumped to my feet and started running into the jungle with my friend on my heels. We ran along in the darkness for a half hour until I hit something soft and fell on my butt. "Umph!" Hands grabbed us in the darkness and strong hands clamped over our mouths. I was pulled to my feet. "Geez Gretch, watch where you're going will ya?!" The lump on the ground came up and I was embraced in a tight hug. I knew it was Brenda and was glad we had attended the Secret Service ninja classes together in 2020. I pushed out of the embrace and shouted, "We can make out later dude! We gotta get the heck out of here! These guys mean business!" She clapped her hands and the black-clad team formed a line before and after us. Headlamps flipped on and we began running again. A whistling sound sailed past my right ear and I felt a stinging sensation like a yellow jacket sting. Hands pushed me down a slippery bank and I could see the dimly lit float plane only forty feet away. Now I could hear dogs barking and men shouting. The whistling had turned into a roar as machine guns were trained in our direction. I scrambled to the stairs and hurled myself inside the plane. The engines roared to life and we began to lift off. I smelled smoke.