He came to in the corner of a small room. His hands were tied behind his back, his legs were bound, and he was blindfolded. He did not let on that he was conscious. In the middle of the room four men sat around a small table. A single unshielded light bulb hung down from the ceiling. The contents of the package Clarence had been carrying were spread out on the table. One of the men said, A lot of good it did us to get this package, everything is in code.
The man facing Clarence said, Maybe we can torture him and get him to give us the code.
The man with his back to him, evidently the leader, said, No, hes just a courier, he wouldnt know anything. The conversation continued along those lines for the better part of an hour. Clarence tried to work himself free with no success. He took stock of his situation. He thought, Surely Perkins saw me being taken. He must have followed and knows where I am.
It was then that he heard one of the men say, What are we going to do with the little man?
The man facing him answered, Kill him.
When he heard kill him Clarence turned stone cold. He started to tremble at the thought of dying. He quickly resigned himself to the fact that he was helpless and at the mercy of these men.
Clarences heart skipped a beat and he breathed a sigh of relief when the leader said, No, we cant kill him.
His relief was short lived when the man continued. Hes CIA. If we kill him well have to hide the body. If a CIA agent is found dead, theyll flood the area with agents and jeopardize our operation. I have no doubt that his friends are looking for him now. No, we have to get rid of him some other way.
After a few minutes another man spoke up. You know, they just finished building a water tank outside of town. Theyre going to fill it tomorrow, so why not dump him in the tank today? Hell never be found. If he is, it could be said that he was locked in by accident and drowned. Clarence shivered as he heard a chorus of agreement from the men. The men came over to where he was lying. He pretended to still be unconscious. If he was to be dumped into the water tank he did not want one of the men to knock him unconscious again. One of the men threw Clarence over his shoulder like a sack of flour, carried him outside and stuffed him into the back seat of a car. After a short drive, the man struggled to get Clarence on his shoulder again and started to climb the ladder of the new water tank. Once on top, Clarence was roughly tossed down on the roof of the tank.
Clarence heard a metal door open. One of the men said, Untie his hands and feet before you throw him in. If they found him with his hands and feet tied we couldnt use an accident as an excuse. They removed the ropes from his hands and feet. Rough hands lifted him up. Suddenly the hands let go. He opened his eyes as he felt himself fall into the darkness of the tank. His fall came to a halt with a breath taking suddenness. Merciful unconsciousness came over him.
A rush of cold water brought Clarence back to consciousness. He was lying flat on his back and his body ached all over. Cautiously, he moved his legs, then his arms, neck, and head to determine if anything had been broken by the fall. By the grace of God nothing was broken. He was just one big ache.
The water was now deep enough for him to float and it was pitch dark. Clarence tried to stand up, but the steel floor was too slippery so he got on his hands and knees and started to crawl. He had no idea which direction to crawl, but he had to do something. He crawled until his head hit the side of the tank. He turned left for no other reason than he only had two choices. Continuing, Clarence kept his right hand where the floor and side of the tank met, and would, from time to time, wave at the darkness with his left hand. He had been crawling for what seemed like an eternity when his head hit something protruding from the wall. Groping with his hands he discovered the tank access ladder. He grabbed the ladder and dragged himself to his feet. The pain was intense and he screamed as he fell to his knees. The scream reverberated in the close confines of the tank. He forced himself back to a standing position.
The water was now up to his knees. Clarence started to climb. Each step brought excruciating pain, but he was determined to keep going. The rungs of the ladder seemed to be about a foot apart. As he climbed he counted the rungs. At sixty his head hit the top of the tank. He reached up and felt the steel ceiling above his head. His fingers felt a sharp edge that seemed to go around in a circle. This, he guessed, was the round steel door leading to the outside and his freedom. He thought. This is probably the door they pushed me through. He now started to talk aloud. If Im right, and the rungs are a foot apart, and there are sixty rungs, I fell sixty feet. As an after thought he said, I couldve been killed. Then he laughed, but stopped short as a sharp pain shot through his rib cage. Quietly he said, Instead Ill probably drown.
He could hear the water rushing in. He talked aloud to keep his mind off the pain. Think Clarence, think. How much time do you have! How fast is the water rising? Clarence climbed down the ladder until his feet hit the water. Ill move up a rung and try to count the minutes until the water hits the next rung. Rhythmically he started to count. Rung after rung Clarence counted. His best guess was half an hour per rung. If Im right, that gives me about twenty hours until the tank is full. That is if I can cling to the ladder that long.
|