In Golden Blood by Stephen Woodworth

Author:Stephen Woodworth [Woodworth, Stephen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Archaeological expeditions, Fiction - Espionage, Single mothers, Fiction, Suspense, Religious, Peru, Clairvoyants, Thrillers, Suspense fiction, Psychics, Thriller
ISBN: 9780440242529
Publisher: Random House, Inc.
Published: 2005-10-25T05:00:00+00:00

WHEN NO BREAKFAST ARRIVED IN THE

MORNING, Natalie pawed through her handbag until she unearthed a rumpled pack of peanuts from one of the half-dozen plane flights she'd taken... was it only three weeks ago? It seemed like months since she'd hugged Cal ie good-bye.

Natalie forced herself to eat the peanuts one at a time, rol ing them around on her tongue until they became soft and tasteless before chewing and swal owing them. Ever a finicky, health-conscious eater, she now craved al the empty calories she'd always denied herself: pizza dripping with stringy melted mozzarel a; hamburgers-heck, make it cheeseburgers--gushing pink juices and slathered with Thousand Island dressing; french fries saturated with salt and moist grease. Fat, carbs, sodium, cholesterol, triglycerides--bring 'em on! At least she'd live to regret the indulgence in her old age.

A confirmed junk-food fanatic, Dan would have had a chuckle or two at her newfound jones for

McDonald's... until he saw how her shrinking skin had already begun to cling to the ridges of her ribs. But she couldn't al ow herself to think about Dan, Cal ie, home, or food, lest she waste more time with wistful yearning. Sucking on another peanut, she dumped the contents of her toiletries bag out onto the cot to see what she could use to attempt an escape from Camp Azure. She'd deliberately packed as little as she could, figuring she'd only be gone a few days, and the resources at her disposal were pitiful y innocuous: smal bottles of shampoo and skin moisturizer, an eyeliner pencil, a lipstick, a compact, a handful of tampons, a rol of double-sided tape to attach her wig, a can of shaving cream and a couple of twin-blade disposable razors for when her rechargeable Lady Remington ran out of juice. About the most dangerous item in her possession was a pair of nail clippers, which she'd had to pack in her luggage so airport security wouldn't confiscate them. Natalie guessed that you might be able to kil someone by puncturing his carotid artery with the clippers' pointed nail file, provided that you could get the file within an inch of the person's throat.

That prospect seemed unlikely considering she was going up against twenty-odd men the size of Romoldo. And even if she managed to escape, what could she do?

Hike back to Cajamarca on foot over the Andes, alone, with no food or water? She'd be dead within a day or two.

Her captors must have felt secure in such advantages, for they were cavalier and careless about guarding her. She'd seen a silhouette that she assumed was Romoldo's through the tent wal that morning, but he wandered off after a couple of hours. Since then she'd been able to unzip the door and stick her head outside without attracting more than an offhand glance from the

Peruvians. The men now lazed and joked with each other in smal groups, their work forgotten.

Natalie flicked the nail clippers open, made a practice jab with the file, then rol ed her eyes and tossed the clippers back with the rest of the useless junk scattered on the cot.

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