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A Summary Of Roger Nelson's Story

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You would think the leadership would be better prepared, Roger Nelson thought. But then these guys might be decoys. If the campesinos were lures, what’s behind this door? His visions weren’t clear on the details, but the floor plans of the house and the exact room where C.E. Mason were not obscured in his visions.
Roger heard two voices as he stepped inside the hallway leading to the den. They were coming from the living room, and the light in the living room was emanating from the screen of a muted TV set on a telenovela. Soap opera. The men were playing a card game for money, Venezuelan Bolivar.
The man losing said, “Deje de fumar. No es bueno para la salud.” There was anger in that admonition. Stop smoking. It is not good for you.
“Cállate y
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Mason said, turning on the night light on the night table next to his bed. “How did you get in here?!”
“I’m the man who’s going to get you out of here. My name is Roger Nelson. Your wife hired me to find you.
“You’re kidding!?”
Roger shook his head.
“How is my wife? How is Maggie?”
“Worried about you.”
“You CIA, Special Forces . . . You here for me, risking your life?”
“No. I’m not with the government. And yes, I’m here for you. I’m being paid: Call me a mercenary of sorts. But we can talk about that later. Right now we have to get out of here.”
“Really?! And go where?!”
“I’ve got a plane waiting for us,” Roger got annoyed. The man was nervous, so he’s talkative.”
“I shouldn’t be escaping with you. You’re just one man. Where’s the cavalry?”
C.E. Mason has a gab compulsion.
“You could stay here, take your chances and maybe even get tortured or something,” Roger was being cynical.
“Okay, if you put it that way . . .”
“Stay here, Mr. Mason, and the drug traffickers will trade you to the government,” Roger continued to scare C.E. Mason into accepting his rescuer and voluntarily coming along with him, to make the rescue effort easier. Instead, he got a question: “What do these people want with
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