The Bolivian Girl: A Hard-Hitting Special Forces Action Thriller by Christoffer Petersen

Author:Christoffer Petersen [Petersen, Christoffer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Aarluuk Press for Arctic Noir, Action Thrillers and Greenland Crime
Published: 2020-07-21T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

Bodhi collapsed his massive frame into a tiny chair in the waiting lounge of the 96th Medical Group Hospital at Eglin Air Force Base. Tucked into the north-western corner of Florida, the base was far from the Bolivian mountains, and on much flatter ground. Bodhi railed against his body’s demands for sleep with thoughts of the Captain, and the rest of ODA 7151 that he left behind – their fate uncertain. It just wasn’t done, no matter the logic. It all came down to the girl – what she had seen, what she knew. But none of that mattered if she didn’t speak, and then eight stellar operators from one of the world’s best Special Forces unit were lost. For what? A dead mining executive and a mute girl? It didn’t make sense. Bodhi refused to rest before he knew something, anything, that might go even a little way to justifying the decision to board the helo and bug out of Bolivia.

“Staff Sergeant Stanton?”

Bodhi looked up at the sound of his name, then shuffled out of the seat to stand to attention. An Air Force doctor walked over to him, waving away Bodhi’s salute with a shake of her head.

“I’m Major Tennyson,” she said, gesturing for Bodhi to follow her. “You’ve brought home quite the puzzle,” Tennyson said, as she bumped open a door to an observation room crammed with a long desk and three banks of computers. Bodhi stalled at the sight of Piñi wearing a thin gown, perched at the end of a hospital bed. A nurse stood beside her, taking her blood pressure. Tennyson stepped up to the glass and waited for Bodhi to join her. “She can’t see or hear you. One-way glass.”

“Right,” he said.

“So, like I said. She’s quite the puzzle, Staff Sergeant.”

“Sorry, Major. I’m a little tired. What kind of puzzle?”

Tennyson stepped around Bodhi to turn one of the computer screens towards him. “From the description of where you found her, and under the circumstances, I was expecting signs of rape at the very least. But she has not been raped, at least not recently.” Tennyson tapped the screen. “There were some traces of ketamine hydrochloride in her blood – a tiny amount, less than we get in the girls who get drugged in the bars off base. There was nothing else of interest in her blood. So I took a closer look at her skin.”

“And?” Bodhi said, frowning at the screen.

“Contusions around her wrists, which fits with being tied. She has several cuts on her face and arms – all superficial, and her lips have been busted. But the interesting thing is her knuckles.”

“How so?”

“You didn’t see them?”

“It was dark, Major. There was plenty of shooting. I remember taking her hand, and that it was rougher than I expected.” Bodhi shrugged. “She has a firm grip.”

“Her knuckles,” Tennyson said, as she pulled a picture onto the screen, “are swollen. There are cuts, and there is blood under her fingernails. I’ve seen this before,” she said.

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