Vanished

“No one's going to hurt you, Marielle. I won't let them.” She nodded, childlike again, and still so desperately afraid to know what they'd done. And then a woman was brought in. She was blond and heavyset, about thirty. She was speaking frantically in German to the captain of the ship as they brought her in, and he finally shouted at her to be silent, and she looked imploringly at Marielle, as though she expected her to help her.

“What is she saying?” Marielle asked.

“She is saying that she has hurt no one,” the captain explained. She said a lot more then, and the captain finally told her again to be quiet.

“Who are these people?” she finally asked John. “ “That's what I wanted to know from you first. You don't know any of them, Marielle? You're sure?”

“Not a one. I've never seen them before.”

“They've never worked for you, even briefly …or for Malcolm.”

“I don't know. I've never seen them,” she said again. She was certain. John nodded expressionlessly at his men, and signaled for the three Germans to be removed. And when they were gone, he nodded at his men again, and then bent to say something to Marielle in earnest.

“I want you to be very strong … I want you to be strong, Marielle …hold my hand …we're going to show you someone …and I want you to tell me if you know him.” But she was afraid the moment he said the words. She didn't have the courage to look at her dead baby. She had seen Andre when he was drowned, held him in her arms, clutched him to her heart, and she couldn't do it again …she knew it …she couldn't. She began to cry and turned, struggling to be free, as John held her.

“I can't …” she cried, and buried her face against him. “I can't do it …please …don't make me …”

“It may not be him …you have to help us …please …please, Marielle …” He was almost in tears himself, and he hated to hurt her. But the child they had found appeared to be a deaf mute, and did not seem to understand them. They weren't sure if he was drugged, or too frightened to speak to them, or simply didn't speak the language, and the captain didn't recall seeing him before, although the group had been aboard for days. The child looked different than the Patterson boy, but there was something about the eyes that had caught John's attention. The hair color was wrong, and he was much thinner than the photographs he'd seen of him, and older, but still … he knew he had to ask her. He couldn't let the ship sail without asking her to look at him. And some sixth sense had told him that there was something very wrong about these people. But she was clinging to him, and she refused to look at him. And then John's eyes met hers as he held her.

“You have to do this, Marielle … for Teddy's sake …” He held her hand, and slowly her head turned, and she stared at the child they brought in, and everything stopped for an endless moment. She got up and she stood staring at him, as though unable to believe what she was seeing. His hair had been cut, and he had short dark brown hair, but it was faintly blond at the roots, and if you looked carefully, you could see that they had dyed it.

And as she stared at him, he looked up at her, unable to believe that she had finally come to save him. She let out a heartrending scream and in two long strides she was clinging to him and holding him tightly against her. And slowly, like a forgotten sound, the child began to cry. He began to whimper at first, and suddenly there were great wounding cries, as he clung to the mother he thought he had lost forever. The captain began to cry, and there were tears streaming down John Taylor's cheeks as he watched them.

She looked at no one for an endless time. All she saw, all she knew, all she felt, was the child in her arms, the child she thought she had lost forever.

“My darling … oh my love …” She held him as though she would never let him go, and finally the captain assisted them off the ship, and the three Germans were taken away in handcuffs and leg irons by the FBI men. He apologized profusely again, and John informed him that the ship would have to be held in port, pending further investigation. Two-dozen men were left to guard the ship, and John helped Marielle and Teddy into the car. He had to get her back to court and tell the judge what had happened. But he had also called for additional men. He knew he was going to need an army of guards for them at the courthouse.

He looked long and hard at the child sitting on his mother's lap. The boy hadn't smiled, but he clung to her as though he was afraid to lose her. And John touched the small fingers holding hers ever so gently.

“Hello, little man …we've been looking for you for a long time.” Teddy stared at him, not sure whether or not to trust him.

“They said you were dead,” he whispered softly as he looked up at his mother …”and then they put me in a box …with holes in it …and they fed me crackers.”