The smell of ozone and pollen filled the air from the recent summer storm. The rain had dissipated, but the fog still clung to the earth like a blanket. Almeida couldn’t even see the river through the mist, but he heard the slapping of water against the base of the precipice below. He waved smelling salts beneath the noses of Jonas Black and Katherine O’Connell. The pair sat inside Katherine’s Dodge Charger. Almeida and his men had driven them up to the edge of the bluff and placed Katherine behind the wheel with Black occupying the passenger seat. As the salts took effect, the captives sprung to life, but no part of their bodies moved except for their eyes, which frantically scanned the car’s interior. “What the hell?” Black said in a tired whisper. Almeida leaned down into the open driver’s side window. “My men shot you with a tranquilizer gun, and we brought you here. But don’t bother trying to move your arms or legs.
