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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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Choices and Challenges11with <strong>the</strong> full cooperation and approval <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Colombian</strong> government.Some people’s perceptions <strong>of</strong> our work as subcontractors was that wewere like cowboys rid<strong>in</strong>g all over <strong>the</strong> range do<strong>in</strong>g whatever we wanted.That’s just not true. Every flight we went on, a representative <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><strong>Colombian</strong> government, ei<strong>the</strong>r a military guy or a civilian, jo<strong>in</strong>ed us.They were known as “host-nation riders.”The two <strong>Colombian</strong>s said hello and <strong>in</strong>troduced <strong>the</strong>mselves. Theywere dressed <strong>in</strong> civilian clo<strong>the</strong>s, even though one <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>m <strong>in</strong>troducedhimself as Sergeant Luis Alcedes Cruz. Both seemed to be personableguys. Like most <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Colombian</strong>s we worked with and knew, <strong>the</strong>yseemed eager to make a good impression.Because <strong>the</strong>re wasn’t enough room <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> plane and he was missioncommander, Keith let <strong>the</strong>m know that only one <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>m could go upwith us. Tom, who’d done a lot <strong>of</strong> aviation work all over South Americaand <strong>the</strong> Caribbean, spoke Spanish, and he <strong>in</strong>terpreted for Keith, relay<strong>in</strong>gto us that Sergeant Cruz had stepped up and let <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r guy have<strong>the</strong> day <strong>of</strong>f. Cruz sat <strong>in</strong> on our meet<strong>in</strong>g, and with our broken Spanish,his broken English, and Tom’s capable translat<strong>in</strong>g, we let him knowwhat our target package was for <strong>the</strong> day. With that message communicated—asmuch a courtesy as anyth<strong>in</strong>g else, s<strong>in</strong>ce he really had no sayso at this level to alter our plan—we loaded up.As usual, dur<strong>in</strong>g take<strong>of</strong>f, we were pretty quiet and on task. Oncewe were airborne and on our way to <strong>the</strong> refuel<strong>in</strong>g po<strong>in</strong>t, <strong>the</strong> chatterbegan. I noticed that Tom could barely make it <strong>in</strong>to <strong>the</strong> first half hour<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> flight without dipp<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong>to his lunch. His wife, Mariana, was alegend—a Peruvian woman who was a marvelously good cook. Everyone <strong>of</strong> us would have admitted to need<strong>in</strong>g to shed a few pounds, and Iknew that Tom was on meds for his high blood pressure, <strong>the</strong> cause <strong>of</strong>which he attributed more to Mariana’s good cook<strong>in</strong>g than to <strong>the</strong> stress<strong>of</strong> be<strong>in</strong>g a pilot.While I was busy check<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> equipment, I could hear everybodycommunicat<strong>in</strong>g over <strong>the</strong> headsets. Tommy J reported that <strong>the</strong> d<strong>in</strong>ner

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