Globusz^® Publishing 

t was the following morning before Peter could fully appreciate his surroundings. They were woken early and after a ‘breakfast’ of bread, water and, at last, some guava fruit, the newcomers were to ‘assemble in front of the guards building with all their possessions’ they were told. Peter walked across his back pack in his hand and scuffing his feet suitably dirtying his trainers. The other two men accompanied him carrying their few possessions wrapped in a shirt or cloth. He was glad to see Helen in her newly dirtied sneakers also carrying her back pack. The body of the prisoner shot the day before, lay where it had fallen off the truck the previous night, a mass of flies buzzing around the head. Obviously it had been left there as an example to all the other prisoners. The six newcomers stood in a line and waited. An hour went by and still they waited. Eventually a large rotund man with jet black hair and dressed in immaculate green's, polished brown calf length leather boots and carrying a swizzle stick, appeared at the doorway. Peter’s immediate thought was of Marshal Goering of the Second World War and wasn’t at all surprised to learn later that this was his nickname through out the prison and even the guards referred to him as the Marshal. He pulled him self up to his full height. Then rocking forward onto his toes and back onto his heels; he puffed out his chest and gave them the spiel.

“This prison is not escape proof, and if you do escape you will not be punished.” He looked at each of them in turn to make sure he had their attention, then gesturing to where the body still lay on the ground. “You will be shot and your partner will be punished. You have seen the road that brings you here. You can see the mountains. You will not get far in these mountains... or the forest. My dogs enjoy a good chase. But the longest any person has remained free is three hours before they caught him. Not a pretty sight, better to have been shot.” Peter lowered his eyes as once again the guy looked hard at each one of them. “Do as you're told, obey orders and you may survive.” Then he abruptly turned and walked back inside.

When Peter had heard that the partner would be punished if they escaped he had cringed but fortunately later he was paired off with Helen just as he would prefer. It was now obvious that if he was to escape they both had to go together; this would slow him up, but not as badly as one of the other women. Their possessions were then searched, their back packs emptied onto the dusty ground. One of the guards came round to each person in turn and dropped a pair of rope sandals at their feet. They were told to put them on as their other footwear was confiscated. Both their back packs and warm jackets were also ‘confiscated’. Then they were made to remove any jewellery and their watches with the comment. “You won’t need to know the time here. There’s plenty of it.” Peter, with difficulty, held back from replying. What was left of their possessions they left on the ground. Next thing they were given a pick and shovel, told to pick up the body and follow the guard. Some two hundred yard outside the prison was the graveyard, just a plot of land with several mounds of stones and earth. An hour later a fresh mound had been added and all six of them were on their way back to the compound where they collected the remains of their possessions. Peter, casually wrapping his in the mosquito net, was ushered to the men’s quarters.

As soon as Peter arrived back he started talking to anyone who would listen, all the time asking questions, what was the routine? What was the food like? What were the rules? His limited Spanish made it difficult especially when they talked fast with a dialect. But he was making him self understood when out of nowhere he was addressed in English, with a broad Texan twang. “Hi! You a Limy?”

“Well hello! A Yank.” He said turning and holding out his hand to a light skinned, but rather red faced individual. “Peter’s my name, and it’s great to meet you, how long have you been here?”

The American, a short stocky man, about 5 ft 4 in, around forty and a little overweight, was a desk jockey, unfit and out of place in the open.

“Drew they call me and I’ve been here about a month now.”

“Drew! Are you Drew Roband the Texas senator’s assistant?”

“Fame at last, the very same.”

“They said the guerrillas; the freedom fighters kidnapped you, asked for a ransom. A million dollars it was, so how come you're here? I mean this is a government place isn’t it.”

“Yeah! Well it is and it ain’t government. These guys are your real genuine guerrillas. But it’s the government that’s giving out all that shit. There ain’t no freedom fighters. They really fitted me up. They planted drugs on me then a quick ‘inquiry’ and shipped me to here, no embassy contact either. Who are you and what are you doing here?”

“Me! Well I’m Peter Harding... I work for the (IMAF), that's the International Monetary Aid Foundation as an investigator. I was sent out with the architect of that dam, David Mirand, and his wife. There’s something wrong with the project and they wanted us to have a look see.”

“The (IMAF) Eh!” he said with some respect in his voice. “I had some dealings with them, so where is this David guy. He didn’t come in with you, any chance of him getting the word out?”

“David, No! He’s dead; we were attacked on the road up from Sao Agusta to the dam. They shot him. Blamed it on his wife and on me, said we were having an affair and we got sent up here.”

“No embassy contact?”

“No! Nothing, nor the (IMAF), they said they had informed the embassy but no one turned up. You know Drew there is something very strange here, if its government that's doing this then I would expect embassy contact, if it isn’t government then why the police.”

“I’ve been thinking about that myself, maybe there are two factions here, one thinks government and the other tells the embassy it’s the freedom fighters and we’ve been kidnapped. I can’t work it out.”

Peter looked round to check no one was in hearing distance. “Listen Drew, we have to talk seriously, in private, they gave me... both of us an indefinite sentence, and... well I’m not stopping here for years twiddling my thumbs.”

Drew took Peter by the arm and led him to the centre of the compound, where the dividing fence joined with a fenced off area used for storing unused bamboo poles. They sat down on the ground and lent back against the fence. “That's real fighting talk boy, it may be possible to get out of here but the difficult part is staying out without getting shot... or eaten by those damn dawgs.” He raised his hand. “Easy now we’ve got company coming, one of the women taking a fancy to you.”

Peter looked up from contemplating his dusty shoes. “Oh! She’s Okay, it’s Helen... David’s wife.” He waited for her to sit down on her side of the wire before introducing them. Helen slipped a hand through the wire to shake hands, at the same time saying. “Not the senator’s assistant Drew... Roland... is it?”

“Yeah! Hi! Nearly right, Roband’s the name, but everyone calls me Drew. Roland may have been more appropriate when I arrived,” he said slapping his stomach before continuing. “You’ve got a real feisty one here lady, no sooner have we been introduced than he starts talking about escaping.”

Helen was quick to respond. “I haven't got him, he’s not mine. I’ve only known him a week or ten days. I’ve just lost my husband, he was shot.”

Drew raised both hands in protest. “Hey! Peace lady, just a figure of speech... Look lady I’m sorry about your husband, Peter here was just explaining about that.”

With this apology Helen realised she had reacted badly. “Okay! Apology accepted. I misunderstood.” Then in an attempt to lighten things, added. “You can forget the lady bit, I’m no lady... I’m Helen,” and gave him a big smile to ensure he understood the joke.

“Right! Now you’ve been introduced lets get back to the real question. Helen... I was talking to Drew about getting out of this place but, as he says, the problem isn’t so much about getting out as staying out. Getting away without being shot. Which reminds me, have you hidden those boots well?”

“I’ve hidden them but not well, they’re hanging out of a window at the back. Over a big drop, but they can be seen from the road.” Then looking at Drew for confirmation she added. “I don’t want to bring them in yet, I understand they have snap searches occasionally.”

He nodded. “Yeah! They do, and one is due soon, every couple of weeks or so. You’ve got boots, then bury ‘em! ... That’s best. I have one or two items buried all ready. Nothing much, just a knife and a glass you understand.”

“How did you manage that with the guards looking on? My boots are under my mattress. Just a temporary measure, ‘till I can find a more permanent place.”

“I just sat down, did it behind my back, ‘course they were only small things. Get a few of the guy’s around you, to hide behind, and then dig your hole. Simple!”

Peter looked aghast. “Are they to be trusted? What if someone tells the guards?”

“Yeah! That was a problem, I sounded out a couple of guys and we got together, they’re all in the upstairs room, we persuaded one or two guys that they would be ‘more comfortable’ downstairs.” Then leaning forward he looked at Helen. “Of course I don’t know anything about those in the women’s quarters.”

“That’s fine; I’ve already made one friend who caught me hanging my boots out the window... By the way, Peter and I are paired, you know. One would be punished if the other escapes. Who’s your alter ego?”

“Alter ego? You mean who am I paired with? No one, I was brought up here on my own. They didn’t tell me then, I guess they forget and I haven't encouraged them to think again.”

Drew had been very alert during their conversation, watching the guards walk past in the far compound. Suddenly he exclaimed out loud. “Blast! Helen you had better go quickly. The guards don’t like us talking to the women for too long. That guard is taking too much of an interest in us. Talk to you again tomorrow.”

Helen didn’t question him but immediately scrambled to her feet and with a wave of her hand walked away towards the women’s dormitory.

“That’s a real nice woman.” Drew said, whilst watching Helen walk away. “She catches on real fast. Not many women would leave that quickly without a chunter. What’s your relationship with her Peter? I mean, I don’t want to tread on any ones toes.”

Peter looked at him sharply, but there was no smirk or big grin and decided to take the query on face value. “I’d not really thought about it to be honest,” he answered. “I suppose I feel a bit protective and responsible for her, a sort of protector. Not a very good one though... I’ve only known her ten days or so, though we did first meet some two months ago.” He then proceeded to tell Drew the whole story of how they came to be here.

* * *

After Helen had so abruptly left them, she too noticed the attention from the guard and so walked slowly back to the women’s dormitory to find Gina. She found her sitting on her bunk repairing some clothes and climbed up to sit on her own bunk facing her. “Gina! Is it always like this, just idling around doing nothing, is there no work at all.”

“No! Not always, today it Saturday. Weekend... do nothing, Monday start work again.” she replied without looking up from her sewing.

“Oh! I see. I need to talk; somewhere quiet where we will not be disturbed, if that’s okay.”

Gina stopped sewing and looking up, stared into Helen’s eyes for a moment. “I guess... Okay, you must be real, English, cannot be fake. Where should we go?”

“Outside at the back, in the shade but in full view of the guards, no windows above us and no one can approach without us seeing them,” she said briskly. “Join me in a couple of minutes? Please.”

She got a nod in reply as Gina lowered her head to continue with her sewing.

Helen walked outside and sat down in the dust, her back against the end-wall of the dormitory. ‘Now what is the ground like here? Where is it best to bury my boots? It’s baked hard a foot out from the wall, but right in close it appears softer.’ She put a hand behind her back and began to scratch at the ground; it moved easily at first but soon became harder. ‘I’ll need something to dig with. A knife should do it, about six inches deep and two foot long. That’s good, two feet for two feet. Put them in ... can I find a plastic-bag? Cover over and spread the extra soil around.’ She looked up as Gina approached and sat down beside her.

“Thanks for coming Gina. I wanted to ask about the routine here. And I need a tool to dig with, and a plastic-bag. I have to keep my boots; if I am ever to get out of this place I have to keep them. I thought I would bury them behind you, against the wall the ground is softer there.”

“Hel-an this is dangerous, if caught.” She rolled her eyes skywards. “Why not wait a while, ‘till you know things.”

“I can’t wait... I can’t relax until those boots are safe. Clothes I can make, but I must have good boots to walk in, else I’ll never get over those mountains,” she said, nodding towards the snow capped peaks in front of them. “You can’t make boots and there is no way anyone can walk for a distance in these rope sandals... Is there anyone else we can trust, anyone who will help us?” She hated doing it but was deliberately using the terms ‘we’ and ‘us’ in an attempt to get Gina committed to a combined or group effort. Immediately it paid dividends.

“There is Maria; she is sister of my second cousin’s wife. You see Maria, she is big lady. I show to you. I also have knife... spoon to dig hole,” then smiling broadly she added. “You hide behind Maria when dig big hole, guard not see, not round Maria.”

Helen almost laughed with the release of tension. “That would be great. Is there another person? Four of us would be best, but we don’t need to rush for the other one.”

“I not think anyone would betray us, how you say? All in same boat.” she thought for a moment longer then continued. “But best not tell everyone. I talk to Maria, she knows best.”

“Look I don’t want to rush, but do you think you could get Maria to come and talk now, and bring that knife and spoon, just so we can loosen the ground a bit and see if the ground is deep enough... What do you think?”

“Si! Okay! I get Maria, see what she says. You wait here, yes?” Helen nodded in agreement and leaning back she resumed her scratching in the ground. Five minutes later Gina returned with a big woman, she wasn’t obese but well built and tall, especially from Helen’s position, still sitting on the ground. A big busted hearty woman, nothing apparently fazed her, even in this place. If you wanted something ‘ask Marie' she could wheedle or cajole it out of the guards some how or other. Gina was carrying a cloth which chinked as she sat down next to Helen. Maria sat down on the other side. Helen offered her hand. “Hi! I’m Helen, glad to meet you.”

“Maria! Hi... what is it you want?”

“I just want to talk.” Then taking a deep breath she plunged in. “Gina said I can trust you... I want to talk about getting out of this place. They gave me years for no reason, so I’m not staying. Has Gina told you anything?” She received a negative shake of the head as Maria looked sharply at Gina. “Okay! Do you want to get out?” After a short pause, came positive shake of the head. “This is how it is... I arrived yesterday wearing a pair of boots. I’ll need these if I am to walk out of here. I don’t know how I’ll do it, but I will definitely need boots when I’m out. At the moment they’re in a temporary hiding place. I want to move them, bury them here against the wall. Gina has brought a knife to dig with.” She said putting a hand down on the package that Gina had brought.

“I don’t know! I have a partner, a man; he will be punished if they find out that I help you.”

“Yes! I know how they operate; I have a man friend who would also get hurt. We hope to escape together. If... no ... when we escape, we have a lot of clout outside and I can promise you we will get this place closed down, even if we have to hire help and come back ourselves. Meanwhile all I ask is that you shield me whilst I dig this ground.”

“Your boots will get wet when it rains, go mouldy, you need plastic-bag to wrap them in.”

‘Got her!’ Thought Helen. She’s making a suggestion, so she will help. “Yes! Well I will just have to wear mouldy boots when the time comes, a plastic-bag I don't have.”

“Where are these boots now?”

Gina answered, telling her how she had found Helen hiding them the night before and thought she was trying to escape through the window.

Maria shivered as she thought of the drop below the window, and then shuffled round in front of them. “Try the knife in the ground, loosen it, and see if you can dig deep enough. Gina you watch the guards, say if they appear to be taking an interest in us. Don’t say any more, let me think.”

Helen took the cloth package and extracted the knife. It was just a normal steel table knife. ‘This should do.’ she thought. ‘I don’t have to dig the whole area.’ She started scratching and loosening the soil close in against the wall, it didn’t take long before she was six inches deep and moved along the wall. Gina, watching the guards, occasionally told her to stop.

“How is it going, is it soft enough?” Asked Maria, leaning forward and digging her hand in the loosened earth. “It feels deep enough. The guards have plastic-bags, but I can’t steal one until the morning. The boots should be safe for now, no one is likely to go down the road tomorrow, and the lorry won’t leave until Monday. I’ll get a plastic-bag and hide it when I come from their quarters. I know one of the guards wants some clothes mending, I’ll bring them back and mend them here.”

“Why not put the clothes in the plastic-bag.” Helen asked. “It would be safer than smuggling the bag. Do you normally do their mending for them?”

“Yes! We also do their washing sometimes, to get some soap so we can wash our own clothes as well, you understand. But that’s a good idea, carrying the bag across like that. I’ll do that. They’ll stop me and search the bag of course.” Maria was nearly chinking with a great big smile. She really liked that idea.

Helen then scratched the wall. “I’ll just mark it where I’ve loosened the soil, Gina do you want to leave the knife buried here or do you want to take it back with you?”

“I take it back with me, I... jam it behind one of the wash-basins, it safe there.”

The meeting broke up and they made their way back into the dormitory, soon all three of them were in the wash-rooms, Gina to hide the knife, Helen to wash her hands and Maria to see if she could see anything of Helens boots.

* * *

As the day wore on Peter was becoming more obsessed about his boots and where to hide them. He was sitting on his bed, talking to Drew when, late in the afternoon a horn sounded. Everyone knew what it meant except the new arrivals. Peter looked at Drew and raised his eyebrows. “What’s this all about, what goes on?”

“This is role call, we gather together in groups of five and they come and count us, once or twice a day during the week, only once on the weekend days.” He went over to a window. “Oh! Damn. The searchers are coming too.”

‘Oh! God no.’ thought Peter. ‘If they find my boots they’re going to take it out of Helen. Please no, search the women's quarters, not the men's please.’ He was half way down the aisle when he had an idea. “Wait a moment.” he called and ran back to his bunk, threw off his sandals and slipped on his boots, then quickly tucking the rope sandals into his waistband under his shirt he caught up with Drew who checked him over, bent down and pulled hard on his jeans to go well over the top of the boots. Together they walked outside and down the steps, pretending to rub sleep from their eyes. Drew nodded to three other men who came over. As they formed up into groups of five Drew whispered to them to shuffle around and obliterate Peter’s footprints. Peter, meanwhile, looked across at the women’s compound where they were formed up and caught Helen’s eye. She mouthed the word ‘boots’ whereupon, he looked down at his feet, then gazing at her nodded his head. He saw a weak smile come over her face as she raised her hand and scratched behind an ear with crossed fingers.

There were five guards; two of them accompanied by one of the dogs went towards the women's quarters. The count went ahead with the other three guards, one of them holding the lead of the second dog and the count appeared to come out wrong. The three guards doing the count had a discussion, and then the men were counted again. Peter whispered to Drew. “I wonder if they’re missing the body in the cemetery, should we tell them do you think?”

“Na! Perhaps the body has escaped... I think they’ve got the wrong dawg, this one can’t count so well.”

Meanwhile the searchers had entered the women’s dormitory, Peter couldn’t help smiling at Drew’s comment even though he was very tense, expecting a shout at any moment. The guards counted the men for the third time and the resulting discussion became more agitated until one of the guards waved a hand towards the graveyard.

“Damn!” said Drew. “They’ve remembered, I was hoping for a bit of fun, most of the guards are afraid of those dawgs.” Then he suddenly guffawed. “Can you imagine them, setting the dawgs off, giving them a sniff, only to have them make straight for the graveyard and start digging him up.”

At the same time the searchers came out of the women’s quarters empty handed. Peter had to hold his jaw to stop laughing from the release of tension whilst visualising Drew’s comments like a scene in a Keystone Cops movie. “Drew, for god’s sake give over. If I burst out laughing it would attract their attention and I can’t afford that at the moment.”

The searchers moved over to the men’s quarters. Five minutes later they came up with a similar result. They were all dismissed and allowed to return to tidy up the mess that the searchers had made.

Later in the day after he had returned his boots to their original hiding place beneath the mattress, Peter lay on his bed trying to figure it all out but was still worrying about them. This time he had been lucky, if he hadn’t put his boots on at the last moment they would have been found. The next time they do a search his luck may not hold up. He lay on his back gazing up at the ceiling which was quite high; it was covered in one meter square bare white panels, each panel separated by a thin strip. Above that ceiling, must be the roof void to the pitched roof. ‘The roof void!’ The thought brought him instantly awake. ‘There must be an entrance, one of the panels must lift up, or perhaps all of them.’ First he climbed onto a top bunk and reaching up could just push at one of the panels. It wouldn’t move. Next he walked from one end of the dormitory to another inspecting the ceiling panels, but they all appeared the same. ‘So how do you get into the roof void then, there has to be a way in from outside.’ He walked out and down the steps then looking back he saw there was no entrance through the gable end. Next he walked over to the dividing fence to have a look at the roof. No, no entry there, just a solid roof without breaks. ‘It has to be in the other gable end above the wash-rooms, that has a flat roof, probably an extension to the original building.’ Hardly able to contain his excitement he walked along the fence to where it joined the other fence and a locked gate into the area where they stored lengths of bamboo. The crossing fence was in line with the gable end and even by leaning on it he couldn’t see any of that face of the wall. ‘Damn! Now what? The entrance must be on that wall but how do I prove it? And how do I get to it afterwards?’ He lent against the fence which gave a little. ‘A mirror, if I hold it at arms length through the fence I may be able to see a little of the end wall. Where do I get a mirror? Maybe Drew, he said he had a glass. What sort of glass?’

A minute later and he was excitedly talking to Drew who was lying on his top bunk. “Do you have a mirror ... a small hand mirror is what I need. You said you had a glass, is that a mirror or a magnifier. I just need to borrow it.”

“I’ve got both, but there’s a mirror in the wash-rooms buddy.”

“Yes! Too big and it’s fixed to the wall, where’s your mirror?” He then continued to explain what he wanted it for. “If we can get in the roof void, we could hide anything.”

Drew jumped down and quickly started towards the door, as he passed a bunk in the middle of the room he grabbed the man's foot who was lying there. “Miguel come on wake up, I need you.” Shortly Peter, Drew and Miguel, a dark skinned man with deep set eyes and a mixture of Spanish and Indian blood, where sitting in the dirt by one wall of the building. Drew feeling around, soon came up with the mirror. They walked over to where Peter had stood before, then with Miguel watching for the guards Peter pushed his arm through the fence and tilting the mirror could just see the gable end wall.

“Yes! There’s a door or a hatch in the wall.” He said withdrawing his arm. “The next thing is how we get to it. If we can get in just once we should be able to open a ceiling panel, then we can come and go as we please.”