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Out of Captivity : Surviving 1,967 Days in the Colombian Jungle

Out of Captivity : Surviving 1,967 Days in the Colombian Jungle

Out of Captivity : Surviving 1,967 Days in the Colombian Jungle

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146 OUT OF CAPTIVITYMilton and ano<strong>the</strong>r guard. They started talk<strong>in</strong>g and eventually <strong>the</strong>news leaked out to us that Col<strong>in</strong> Powell, <strong>the</strong> God-bless-him-four-stargeneralsecretary <strong>of</strong> state <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> United States <strong>of</strong> America, had justbeen <strong>in</strong> Colombia on our behalf. We were all completely jacked up tohear that.Immediately our bra<strong>in</strong>s’ motors spun up and we were wonder<strong>in</strong>gwho else besides <strong>the</strong> press might show up at our pro<strong>of</strong> <strong>of</strong> life. Wethought <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> U.S. ambassador to Colombia at <strong>the</strong> time, Anne Patterson,o<strong>the</strong>r possible State Department <strong>of</strong>ficials, maybe even representatives<strong>of</strong> Northrop Grumman. We also talked about what <strong>Colombian</strong><strong>of</strong>ficials might be <strong>the</strong>re—Interior and Justice M<strong>in</strong>ister Fernando Londoñoand o<strong>the</strong>rs.Once back on <strong>the</strong> boat, we were handed bl<strong>in</strong>dfolds and a lame apologyfrom Sombra for <strong>the</strong> “necessity.” A short while later, <strong>the</strong>y placed usunder black plastic, but <strong>the</strong> smell <strong>of</strong> gas under <strong>the</strong>re was mak<strong>in</strong>g us allsick. We raised hell until <strong>the</strong>y lifted <strong>the</strong> plastic and let us rema<strong>in</strong> visible<strong>the</strong> rest <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> way. After a four- to six-hour boat ride, we were led <strong>of</strong>f <strong>the</strong>boats by our harnesses and up an <strong>in</strong>cl<strong>in</strong>e. The sounds <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> jungle and<strong>the</strong> boat motor were replaced by <strong>the</strong> noises <strong>of</strong> pass<strong>in</strong>g cars and humanvoices. We were placed <strong>in</strong> some k<strong>in</strong>d <strong>of</strong> vehicle—likely <strong>the</strong> back <strong>of</strong> one<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir Toyota Land Cruiser trucks—and driven <strong>of</strong>f. We could feel <strong>the</strong>breeze on our faces and hear <strong>the</strong> hum <strong>of</strong> civilization all around us.When we stopped, we were helped out <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> truck, and a guard tookeach <strong>of</strong> us by his harness and cord. They led us along a wooden boardwalk,and as we walked, chatter from a crowd ga<strong>the</strong>red and <strong>the</strong> roar <strong>of</strong>a portable generator rose up around us.I assumed that we were be<strong>in</strong>g taken somewhere like a hotel roomor someplace else for <strong>the</strong> prueba de vida, but when we were sat down <strong>in</strong>chairs and our bl<strong>in</strong>dfolds were removed, I saw that we were <strong>in</strong> ano<strong>the</strong>rsmall twelve-by-twelve room made <strong>of</strong> tablas. Just as we had been whenwe met Gómez, Ramírez, and Mono JoJoy, we were now zoo animals.A whole group <strong>of</strong> FARC we’d never seen before passed by <strong>the</strong> open

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